


The Quiet Kind

by umbraja



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged Up, Bisexual Keith, Bisexual Lance, Domestic, Established Relationship, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff, Introvert Love, Keith has a dog, Keith is stoic, Kidge - Freeform, Klance is in the past, Lance has kids too but joint custody, Modern AU, Multi, Pidge has cats, Pidge is feisty, Shiro is an actual dad, Some angst, There is also a rabbit, Unorthodox relationship, for now, keith pov, lance is a mess, pinning lance, texan keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umbraja/pseuds/umbraja
Summary: Slice of life collection of episodic little vignettes showing a realistically mature relationship between two quirky introverts and their diverse group of friends dealing with things like: finding contentment, fitting into civilian life, refusing to ‘grow up’ while managing to adult, balancing friendships with much needed alone time (aka, introvert issues), and the absolute train wreck that is Lance’s third divorce - now with kids.On Hiatus till after theKidge Zinewinds down





	1. Teaser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This teaser mostly glosses over several years of events leading up to Keith and Pide getting together and isn’t what most of the fic will be about but I wanted to set up the relationships without giving too much away. I plan to reveal more details on their past through the lens of their present but if you’d rather read about Keith’s love life before he settled down that could be a multipart fic of its own, let me know in the comments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going to apologize right now to Lance and Klance shipers. I have nothing against Lance or the pairing. Keith just needed an ex and I couldn’t resist. It’s actually not as bad as this makes it seem and Keith was as much at fault as Lance. Else I would have used Rolo.

**_This isn’t a Hollywood kind of romance._ **

Lights were low, slow music lulled in the background, strings of cheap paper lanterns hung across the room, long sheets of tinsel turned the doorways into traps, and confetti littered the floor. It looked like a high school prom, and maybe that’s what they were going for, but it really didn’t matter right now. Not to Keith. He hardly even saw the sorry decorations. The cheesy music was nothing more than white noise. He didn’t even hear the people talking around him, Shiro and Matt droning on about something either idiotic or brilliant, it could go either way with those two. All that mattered were a pair of bright blue eyes and that shining smile calling to him from the other side of the room.

By the end of the night Keith was drowning in caramel skin, his fingers tangled in chocolate hair. Their lips fit together like they were made for each other. He didn’t even care if Iverson caught them making out in the bathroom. This was worth it.

**_We tried that. Well, he did. I laughed at him for it._ **

Suits don’t cover hickies. Not these anyway. Thace had already seen the glitter. Fucking glitter. Keith couldn’t afford to let him see hickies. You’d think after two years of this he’d learn. Lips made for each other or not, Keith just couldn’t keep up. He was exhausted. He couldn’t take another night at the club, or day of shopping, or holiday with that insanely large family, and certainly not another fight. He didn’t even know what the last one was about. Make-up sex could only do so much when he couldn’t get a moment of actual peace. Spa day does not count. That is the opposite of peace.

At least Pidge only laughed a few minutes this time before grabbing the concealer. She kept telling him he needed to say something about his need for a break but Keith was pretty sure that would just cause another fight. And that’s why she doesn’t date extroverts. Not that she dated at all. Or did much of anything that didn’t involve a computer or lab equipment. But at least her bunk was quiet. Just the tapping of keys to break up the dull drone of AC. 

**_We’re not Hollywood kind of people. We’re not even ‘normal’ kind of people._ **

The cashier at the Hobby Lobby asked if they were making a scrapbook. Pidge told her it was more of a murder board. Poor little old lady didn’t know what to make of the answer but then that’s why the little gremlin had said it. Keith couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t need a college degree to know that Pidge was probably on no less than three federal watch lists. He probably was too now since they’d used his credit card for the depleted uranium they’d ordered off Amazon. Fucking Amazon. But this was worth it. 

**_What we have is something different. Far from the sound and fury of other love._ **

Blue eyes and an easy smile stared up at Keith from his phone, calling for the fifth time. He hit decline. No amount of make-up sex was going to fix this. At least he knew what this fight was about but he also knew it was a no win. Keith just couldn’t do it. He didn’t want that. It wasn’t a matter of not being ready. He just didn’t want it. He never had. Probably never would. Certainly not like this. Not with them. Four years on and off again both with trainwrecks between, Keith was really starting to question his taste in relationships. Why always the difficult ones? Why not something easy? Comfortable. Someone that fit more than his lips.

**_Ours is a quiet kind. The sort of love that grows over time, puts down roots and digs in._ **

Keith didn’t have to try around Pidge. He didn’t have to force himself to smile or talk or be around people. He didn’t have to pretend to be someone he was not. She never drug him to any clubs or crowded bars. The very concept of a mall was as much a nightmare to her as it was to him. She didn’t chatter incessantly about nothing and when she did talk it always had a purpose. There was a reason for everything she did. Even if it was just for SCIENCE! They almost never fought and when they did it at least made sense. There was logic to her anger. She was fierce but reasonable. At least with the people she cared about. Which he could count on one hand.

**_We proved our love long before we ever said the words. We’re safe together. Secure. No question._ **

The door opened at 3am. Keith stood there with his army duffle over one shoulder, motorcycle helmet under the other arm. It was raining. He was soaked. Pidge let him in without question. She always did. No matter how many times, no matter how late. She took him in and didn’t make him talk. She sat on the couch with him willing to listen but content with silence. When he did talk she didn’t judge. Sometimes she dropped logic on him and helped him work through the mess in his head. Always she teased if he was being stupid. But she never judged. 

Five years she’d done that. All the time they’d known each other, right from the beginning, she had supported him. And tomorrow she would take him to Hunk’s bakery for doughnuts and sympathy then the apartment to extract what things he’d left behind, what he couldn’t fit on the bike. If blue eyes walked in, she would be there to back him up. Then she would let him crash at her place because Shiro’s had a baby in it and they both knew how much Keith loved being around that. About as much as she did. And in a week, when he still had nowhere else to go, she let him move in. By the end of the month they were sharing the bed.

**_Friends first and always. Even if some people don’t think it should work. They can just die in a fire._ **

* * *

“Uuh. That your wife?” the rookie asked as Keith passed the ranger station. It was too early for this. Keith gave him a level look then sort of rolled a noncommittal shrug.

“Something like that.” 

The rookie arched a brow then nearly toppled over when his veteran partner huffed a laugh and clapped a heavy hand to the back of his shoulder. The vet shook his head, “That’s Katie. She an’ Mullet have been ‘engaged’ for seven years. It’s a running joke by now.” 

“Oh. Uh. She seems. . . nice?” the rookie wasn’t able to make it a statement. 

“She’s not,” the vet guffed, shaking his head. “She’s an unholy terror that not only can but will make your life come undone if you give her the slightest cause.” 

The rookie’s eyes went a bit wide.

“She’s not that bad,” Keith grumbled a protest, stopping just long enough to strap on his holster.

“Tell that to Bill,” the vet returned with a serious look.

Keith frowned, took a moment to adjust his gun then told them both, “I’ve talked to her about that.”

The rookie glanced between Keith and his partner then asked warily, “Who is Bill?” 

“I need to get on the water” Keith turned away from that subject. Much too early for this.

“Wh-what did she do to Bill?” the rookie called after him. His partner put a hand out to stop him from following with a little shake of his head.

“Let’s just say you don’t ever want to try an’ get between those two. Okay?”

* * *

It was almost midnight when Keith opened the door. Blue eyes stared back at him, hopeful, shining smile a bit sheepish. There were bags at his feet, luggage, a matched set, seven pieces of it. Keith glanced past him to the rental car parked awkwardly in the gravel circle drive. It was dark. And late. And Keith knew the nearest motel was twenty miles up country roads. He looked back at the boy - no, man - on his porch then gave a little nod.

“Lance.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite what the teaser makes it look like, this one is going to be episodic so the story isn’t completely continuous and there’s no end in sight. If this one gets chosen, I do promise to pay out on that kind of cliffhanger at the end but it will be a slow burn (that scene should happen around chapter 4).


	2. Where I Belong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Pidge have made a home together in the deep East Texas woods and it is Soft. . . with just enough edge to still be them.
> 
> _“You only love me for the warmth.”_
> 
> _“I’m also fond of the vehicle maintenance and heavy lifting,” Pidge commented idly as she started her typing again._
> 
> _“Mm. That’s all you like?” Keith gave her a coy smile, midnight eyes lidded as he watched her glance up from her computer. She arched a brow and looked him over then smiled tauntingly back._
> 
> This chapter introduces the main setting (their house) and family of pets as well as hints to what they do for a living and glimpses of their relationship dynamics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings, just in case:
> 
> There is cursing in all of my stuff. Casual smoking and drinking in most of it too but all the characters are well over legal age.
> 
> There's also some tame making out and allusion to sexy times but it's subtle.
> 
> And the r-word is used at the end though affectionately and is actually a reference to a quote from a movie. Kudos if you can figure out which one.

Keith sat on the back porch with his Lone Star beer and Marlboro Reds just watching the rain. It was quiet. Cool. Calm. Nothing like the storms of his youth, 400 miles away in the Panhandle. The Piney Woods softened the sound and storms couldn’t roll so fast here as they did across the plains. It was still Texas but just barely.

He didn’t think he’d ever get used to all the green. Even as the crisp November air fogged his breath between smokes, the grass of the little back lawn was a deep green St. Augustine. The honeysuckle on the back fence was still just as green as it had been when it bloomed that summer. The roses on their trellis draped a thorny green over the gate flanked by fan palms. The wall of yellow pine beyond the yard was just as green as everything else. Only the dogwoods by the creek and occasional maple or sweetgum in the woods were any other color and they were a bright, fiery red.

It was snowing in the Panhandle.

Sometimes he missed the red clay and cotton fields. But he liked the green too. It was comforting. Alive. Gentle. Not so lonely as the land of cactus and mesquite scrub. Not so harsh as the blazing sun of the Arizona desert. Not that the green didn’t have her own bite. Rattlers got nothing on Cottonmouths and the humid heat is so much worse than dry baking. But she accepted him, took him in, wrapped him up in green.

Keith couldn’t help a soft smile as he admitted it wasn’t the green he really liked. It was her.

He glanced back into the house behind him from his worn old lawn chair by the open door. He could see her sitting sideways on the couch, back against the armrest, headphones on her ears, whole attention rapt on the dull glow of her computer screen. She wouldn’t hear a hurricane. And that only warmed his smile. 

Soft sounds of cold rain plinked against the tin roof as Keith leaned his head back against the rough cedar frame and watched through the old screen door. Overlarge round wire rim glasses reflected the scrolling code from the screen in front of her. Keith had no idea what any of it meant but he knew it was probably very important. That or she was working on her Battlebot AI again. That made him smile too. Soft smile. An expression he only gave to a very few and she pulled it out of him without trying. Without even looking.

Ash crumbled off the end of Keith’s cigarette, reminding him it was there, and he took a long drag to make up for the loss. He held the smoke a moment, eyes still on the girl, then turned back to the rain before letting it out with a sigh. Someday he’ll quit. Someday. His brow furrowed slightly as he looked down at the little ember to watch it slowly burn between his fingers. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wood panel wall. Just listen to the rain. It was good. Calm. Quiet.

Keith blinked when a soft thud hit his leg with the weight of a freight train then wrapped a figure eight around his feet. “Hey, fuzzbutt,” he murmured a soft laugh not even bothering to glance down at the responding little mew. Just set his beer on the shelf beside him, next to the ash tray, then dropped a hand in a loose fist below the chair. There was another tiny meep before the piebald tabby headbutted his hand like a bighorn ram. Keith couldn’t help but smile as the cat rubbed its face over his fist then trailed its whole body across his hand, to the tail, only to turn around and rub up the other side, petting itself with a low, loping purr.

“Timing belt’s off there, buddy,” Keith teased lightly as he opened his hand to scritch behind the cat’s ear. The deep, unsteady pur revved up to a higher pitch a moment before settling back in that broken idle. 

_I don’t like cats._

_You’ll like this one. Purrs like a motorcycle._

Purrs like a Harley. So that’s what they named him. Not that they actually call any of the critters by their given names. But they named them all. And there were many. Who’d have thought little miss tech had a soft spot for strays. But then she had him, didn’t she? Keith took another drag of his smoke then shook his head. 

The rain was starting to let up but the sun already hung low behind the clouds. It would be dark soon. Country dark. She didn’t like when he took Red out in the dark or the wet. He wouldn’t do both. So he stayed on the porch and watched the golden hour turn up the color of everything around him. Vivid green. He snuffed out his cigarette into the ashtray so he could take in the smell of the forest after rain. Earthy. Clean.

Keith stayed by the back door, sipping his beer and watching the light fade till it was gone. The patter of rain on the roof was replaced by the soft clack of keys as the girl inside typed furiously away in the silence between. Comfortable quiet. Calm. Content. Somewhere in the distance a lonely train wailed in the night. It reminded Keith of home. Near as he had to it. He closed his eyes and held the thought a moment before letting it go with a sigh and pushed himself up. 

The cat leapt off his lap with a protesting mew then licked itself by the door, waiting for it to be opened. Keith rolled his eyes at it but opened the screen and held it till the fucker was good and ready to saunter in. Keith still didn’t really like cats. But he couldn’t help a smile when this one trotted across the kitchen, jumped over the back of the couch, and headbutted the computer screen half closed.

“Hey! Dickbutt. Tha hell?” Pidge yelped as the cat rubbed its face on the edge of her laptop, purring that ridiculously loud motorcycle sound. “Little fucker,” she muttered, giving in with a sigh and reached up a fist to let him greet her properly. Her fist got the same treatment Keith’s did only she turned her hand over to scritch under the cat’s chin after the second pass.

“You get the rest of them in?” Pidge didn’t even look up, just idly asked as she did every night, still smiling at the cat now curled on top of her closed laptop. 

“Mm,” Keith just grunted as he walked deeper into the house sparing a glance to the usual places. A fluffy black cat stared down from the rafters in the foyer and little grey ears poked out of the laundry in the bedroom. Keith nodded then walked around the couch. He was greeted by the happy thump of a heavy tail against the cushion opposite Pidge. Keith rolled his eyes then just sat down on top of the large cur mutt that stared up at him lovingly with big brown eyes as if he could do no wrong. Even sitting on it did nothing to cool the dog’s adoration. Instead the dog just flailed a bit, digging into the cushions then slipped out from under Keith to turn three circles precisely and flop into the space between the two humans.

Pidge smiled at the dog and got a few thumps of the tail for it then smiled warmer at Keith and gave him a little nod. He nodded back then dropped a hand to the dog’s shoulder, giving it a good pat before turning his head to just stare at the blank TV across from the couch. It was warm inside. The old oil space heater in the corner gave a tiny pop as if to confirm it was on. Not that Keith couldn’t tell from the subtle popcorn smell that lingered in the room. 

He smiled soft and let his eyes wander over the bookshelves that flanked the TV, covered the wall. Ivory colored old wood with gold leaf accents and little roses hand painted on the decorative scroll at the top. They were older than him. Older than his dad, probably. Most of the furniture was. He and Shiro had a time making the TV stand to match last summer but they’d managed a decent job and Allura did good work painting the roses almost exactly the same as the antiques. Keith had thought it ridiculous at first but. . .

_Oh, wow. Look at this. It’s like time stopped on someone’s grandmother. Look at this fan. I could cut my hand off in this thing! We must preserve this. It’s history. We cannot disturb the spirit of this place!_

It was quaint but he’d had fun working in Shiro’s shop to get it just right and they ended up with something much better than they could have bought for the cost. Of course he’d been perfectly happy with their last TV stand - a 2x6 and pair of cinderblocks. But Pidge was right, she usually was, matching the old furniture made it cozy. Homey.

A sudden shock of ice against his side made Keith hiss and turn a wide eyed stare on Pidge. She batted her eyes and smiled sweetly even as she burrowed her toes deeper under his shirt, legs draped over the dog to reach.

“What is wrong with your circulation?” he gaped at her and the dog took that as a cue to slip off the couch with a little whine then do her three circles in front of the radiator before flopping down again.

“I’m a girl. All the warm gets focused on the oven,” she patted her stomach with a wry grin and wiggled frigid toes against his side. 

“Uh-huh. And you don’t wear socks because. . . ?” 

“They itch,” she shrugged it off and slipped her laptop out from under the cat then set the computer on top of the tabby and opened it up. The cat mewled a protest then slinked up with a stretch and meandered over the cushions to take up residence in Keith’s lap. 

He shook his head at them both then leaned forward to meet the cat for a real headbutt with a muttered, “You only love me for the warmth.”

“I’m also fond of the vehicle maintenance and heavy lifting,” Pidge commented idly as she started her typing again.

“Mm. That’s all you like?” Keith gave her a coy smile, midnight eyes lidded as he watched her glance up from her computer. She arched a brow and looked him over then smiled tauntingly back.

“Well. . . it would be untoward of me to mention everythin’ now wouldn’ it,” she drawled an attempt at southern belle but a giggle quaked in the middle of it.

“Untoward?” Keith drawled the word with a dropped r in a mocking imitation of her southern accent as he tried and failed to stifle a grin.

“Yes. It’s a good word. I’m bringin’ it back,” Pidge nodded tightly, in her matter-of-fact voice, then dropped her eyes back to her computer but kept a soft smile even as she continued typing.

Keith gave up trying to hide his grin and just watched her a moment. She was obviously invested in something. He should probably leave her alone. Should. 

With silent grace, Keith rolled up onto his knees on the couch, ignoring the cat’s complaints as it jumped away to curl up with the dog instead. Pidge didn’t even glance up from her computer and just continued typing so Keith crawled closer then put his chin on the lip of her screen and stared at her over it. She smiled but did not otherwise acknowledge him. He kept up the stare a few moments before tilting his head to one side like a confused German Shepherd and when that got no reaction he drug his cheek along the laptop case just like the cat had done moments before.

Pidge suppressed a breathy little laugh then shook her head slightly. “It’s not as effective if you don’t pur.” 

Keith arched a brow at her and considered a moment before pushing the laptop half closed as he scooted closer and leaned in, over her with a wry grin. Pidge gave him a flat look for it as he murmured teasingly, “Cat can’t do this,” before lowering himself the last few inches to catch her lips in a heated kiss. She huffed a little laugh into it and started to return but pulled away after a few seconds with a soft whine.

“I can’t. I have to finish this.”

Keith leaned back only slightly, just enough to give her a good view of his pout.

“Nooo. No. Bad Boything,” Pidge shook a finger at him. The dog looked up briefly just to make sure it wasn’t in trouble before settling back down with a little huff. Keith smirked then shook his head and leaned closer.

“You’ve been working on it all day.”

“I’ve almost gotten in,” her glasses glinted in the light of the screen as she pushed them up. “Their encryption is top notch so I had to go a bit unorthodox but you can always rely on user error to make a hole.” 

“Always,” Keith agreed with a little nod as he leaned in again to press another kiss against her lips. Pidge grunted a protest but didn’t stop him and just gave in after a few moments, returning the kiss. Keith pulled his lips away to trail hot kisses down her neck and she wrapped her arms around him though continued to protest.

“I really should finish.”

“You _should_ ,” Keith nodded agreeably even as he pressed a kiss on her collarbone.

Her breath shuddered at the tease. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Keith leaned back to give her a smug little grin as he purred, “ _Should_.”

Pidge narrowed her eyes at him with a pouty lip but couldn’t keep it up long and broke with a little laugh. “I’m going to remember this in the morning,” she threatened. “When you’re running late for work.”

“You’d have to be conscious before I leave to do that.” He pulled the computer off her lap and set it on the coffee table. 

“I could stay up.” She huffed but he just gave her a flat look for that. “You know I could.”

“You don’t have to clock in or follow a schedule like I do.”

“Oh, don’t pretend like there’s an actual clock,” she waved the notion off. “Only the deer would notice if you were late. And they’re not gonna tell on you.”

Keith gave her a little glare for that and pulled away slightly. “Only _you_ would notice if you take a break instead of hacking for-” he paused to check the clock, “eighteen hours straight.”

Pidge blinked for that number then glanced up at the clock on the wall, looked to the darkness outside, and huffed a little, “Oh.” She turned a meek smile on Keith a moment in apology then shrugged it off with a laugh. “Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I just did.”

“Sooner, Babe. Why’d you let me go all day?”

“Made sure you ate,” he shrugged. “But you were in the Zone. And I always get more done while you’re distracted.”

“Oh? And what pray tell did you get done today?”

“Fixed the fork on Red, oiled her chain, pulled the carburetor off the truck and cleaned it out. Still not sure what’s causing that sound though. Might have to get Hunk to look at it. Hope it’s not a valve,” he trailed off with a slight frown for the thought of continued struggles with that damned truck.

“Anything not involving mechanics?” Pidge prompted him gently to get his mind off it.

“Cleaned the kitchen and bathrooms.” He waved a hand at the open kitchen behind them. It was spotless. Keith had spent a good portion of the morning cleaning right behind her, in full view, not being quiet about it either. Pidge arched a brow then tilted her head to the side to look over his work before she grinned. 

“I honestly can’t think of anything a man could say that would be more sexy than that right there,” she purred teasingly as she looked back at him, pulling her arms up from his shoulders to tangle thin fingers in his hair.

“Also did laundry,” Keith made his voice a husky purr to say it more sexily.

“I stand corrected,” she giggled slightly then added, “Though it’s the ‘also’ that really makes that one.”

Keith rolled his eyes with a little shake of his head for that. “You have to hang up your girl clothes though.”

Pidge shrugged, unconcerned by this. Keith was yet to master the art of little strings, clippies, and creative twisting involved in getting the more ‘girl’ cut clothes to stay on a hanger. 

But then he added, “Cat’s sleeping on them.” And Pidge frowned.

“Toothless?” she turned to look across the house toward the open bedroom door but Keith shook his head.

“Mog. Toothless is on his perch.”

Pidge glanced up to make eye contact with the fluffy black cat staring down from the rafters in the foyer between the couch and bedroom. They eyed each other a moment before Pidge turned back to give Keith a coy smile, “Wouldn’t want you to have to wash ‘em again.” 

“I’m not the one turned our house into an animal rescue despite bein’ allergic,” Keith shook his head with a slightly accusing look.

“It’s really only Toothless,” Pidge shrugged, “and I’m not the one that told Lance we’d keep his stinky cat.”

“You wouldn’t have let him take that fluffball to the shelter and you know it. You let your brother push Mog on us.”

Pidge narrowed her eyes in a slight pout then shook her head with a little huff. “She’s too cute to turn down. But the rabbit is your fault.”

“I just found him,” Keith shook his head. “You’re the one that wouldn’t let me make a stew.”

“Shhh. . . he’ll hear you,” Pidge tensed suddenly, putting a hand over his mouth as she glanced into the foyer again to stare at the dark bar under which the rabbit made his lair. “Ozymandias hears all,” she added in a whisper. Keith gave her a flat look for it then pulled away from the hand.

“I’m pretty sure that isn’t going to phase him.”

“This is why he bites you,” Pidge threw up her hands in a shrug but smiled as she did it. 

Keith rolled his eyes and shook his head then pulled away. “I should get started on supper,” he half muttered as he pushed himself up from the couch but stopped when he felt a hand trail down his lower back to rest on his rump. He turned at the waist to give Pidge a questioning stare but not move away from the touch. She smiled a bit dreamily up at him. 

When he arched a brow she murmured a soft sound then asked, “Why do you have such a nice ass?” and groped it for emphasis. Keith shrugged as he turned to face her, stepping close so she could keep her grip on him.

“Some things are just nice,” he answered casually as he pulled her glasses off and set them on the coffee table, next to her laptop.

“Mmm. . .” she purred with a warm smile and pulled him closer to rub her face against his stomach a while, breathe him in. Then she shook her head and muttered into his shirt, “You should get cooking,” but didn’t let him go.

“I _should_ ,” Keith nodded as he gently drug a hand through her mess of honey hair then leaned down a bit to breathe a teasing purr in her ear, “But it’s always better when we _should_ be doing something else.”

She huffed a little laugh and tilted her face up to smile at him. “Seven years and we’re _still_ retarded for each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to you if you can figure out where all the pet's names come from.
> 
> Or if you can guess what either Keith or Pidge's job is.


	3. Adventures in Adulting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Keith arched a brow then pointed out, “You’re the technician.”_
> 
> _“And you’re the man,” Pidge didn’t even look up for that._
> 
> _Keith gave her a flat look as he grumbled, “Way to empower the patriarchy.”_
> 
> _“So long as I don’t have to get up,” she shrugged with a little smile.  
> _  
>  Keith and Pidge are introverting on the couch when a bit of adulting is required. More fluffy fun with the relationship dynamic with a few hints at their history together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will have more going on. This is still setting things up. I did say it would be a slow burn.
> 
> #### Thanks to everyone that left a comment. Y'all keep me going.
> 
> **If you haven't yet, _please_ leave a comment.**
> 
> Comments keep me writing and without them I default to thinking my stuff sucks then lose the will to continue.

Frost dusted the ground outside, glittering in the glare of the motion sensitive spotlight designed to scare deer out of the yard. Four of them grazed placidly in its light. Keith watched them through the bedroom window trying to remember if there was enough room in the freezer. After a while he decided he didn’t want to gut the thing in this cold. For the first freeze of the winter this was a bitter one, dropping into the low 20s. Sure it was nothing compared to the cold up north (in Yankeeland) but it came on suddenly and this old house didn’t exactly have central heating. Keith could only hope he’d wrapped the pipes enough and that the water pressure would hold a drip till it warmed up. Which would be in about sixteen hours when it was forecast to be in the upper 70s. Because Texas. 

For now though it was too cold to go outside so Keith pulled a book off the shelf by the bed and wandered back to the living room, pausing to turn on the little heater on Pidge’s nightstand before closing the door behind him. The rabbit followed along the edge of its domain in the foyer but Keith ignored the beast. It was contained. The cat on the kitchen table though. 

“Mog,” he growled at the thing and she just sauntered toward him, stood prettily at the table’s edge and arched her back as if expecting he would pet her. When he narrowed his eyes she just turned a circle with a plaintive little mew. “Get off the table,” he grumbled at her. She sat down then reached a paw toward him in a gentle grabbing motion and mewed again. “Spoiled little princess,” he muttered as he gave in and stroked a hand down her back then wrapped it under her belly and picked the little gray cat up. She squalled but didn’t really fight it as he held her to his shoulder and took the three steps to set her down on the back of the couch next to Pidge. 

“Moogle,” Pidge cooed when the cat reached out to paw at her shoulder. The cat mewled another kitten sound then daintily climbed down and curled up on Pidge’s arms between her and the laptop. The girl arched a brow then experimentally tapped her fingers, found that she could still type, so just shrugged and let the cat stay there. 

Keith watched with slight disapproval then rolled his eyes and shook his head as he walked around the couch to sit on the dog. It moved faster this time and slunk to the floor then laid down on top of Keith’s feet once he was settled. It was warm so he didn’t complain and just opened his book to read. 

They sat together in near silence, only the tapping of Pidge’s keyboard and occasional scrape of paper as Keith turned a page to break the quiet. It was good being so close to someone like this. Comfortable without trading words. To just enjoy each other’s presence. Even when Pidge put her frigid toes into his side it didn’t ruin Keith’s peace. He just pulled the little fleece blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped her legs in it then idly rubbed her feet through the soft fabric with his free hand as he went back to reading. 

After a while Keith glanced up at the clock between chapters and realised they’d been sitting like that a few hours. He tilted his head to look at the girl next to him. Computer glare framed her face in a pale glow that glinted off her glasses. She was doing that thing with her lips curled up at one side and slightly pouty but mostly annoyed that meant she was having trouble with something. Keith knew better than to ask what. It would set her off on a tirade he wouldn’t understand a word of and she’d not be any closer to figuring it out for the talking. Maybe Hunk could help her but all Keith was good for with things like this was staying quiet and letting her work. 

Sometimes he felt bad about it. Didn’t help that all of Pidge’s technobabble paid about twice what his twelve hour shifts in the hot sun, driving rain, and bitter cold would never add up to. She didn’t have to put in two months advance for time off. She was _allowed_ time off. Not that she really needed it, working from home like she did. And she’d never been shot at. Or pulled a body out of the lake. Keith shook his head with a little frown, pushed the jealousy away. Really, he was proud of her for breaking the glass ceiling. Not many women were information security specialists and even fewer were paid as well as her to do it. She’d worked hard and earned her white hat. Sometimes a little too hard. 

“Hey Katie,” he wiggled her foot to get the girl’s attention. She blinked at him over her laptop screen. 

“Hey Keef.” 

He gave her a warm smile for the acknowledgement. At least she wasn’t too far gone to even look up. Though now he had to think of something to say. . . “I really appreciate how much you don’t talk to me.” 

“Aww,” Pidge’s lips curled in a coy little grin. “I appreciate your silence too, Keith. It’s so nice being able to just introvert openly in the presence of another person without being assaulted by incessant and futile attempts at small talk.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded idly with a soft expression. She understood. 

“Now shut the fuck up and get back to it.” 

His smile fell a little and he dropped his eyes with a muttered, “Yeah,” but she nudged him with her foot and flashed a warm grin to reassure him. Keith returned the smile with a little nod then settled back in for a few more hours of quiet time before bed. 

They got a few minutes before a strange whistling noise disturbed the peace. 

Keith managed to ignore it for about half a second before dropping his book to glare at the room, looking for the noise. “What _is_ that?” 

Pidge peeked up from her laptop to give him a curious stare then let her eyes roam the area a moment before shrugging. “Wails of the damned?” Keith choked on a laugh then shook his head. 

“Seriously, babe. That doesn’t sound good. Where’s Toothless?” 

“Pretty sure that’s a bit too full bodied and consistent for him to be making.” But Pidge did look around for the cat then pointed, “He’s hugging the radiator.” The fluffy black cat was indeed hugging the radiator. 

“That’s a fire hazard,” Keith nudged the cat away with his foot despite knowing it would just go right back. 

“Only a matter of time before that one kills us all,” Pidge huffed a little laugh then typed at her computer. “Harley’s on the bed and I’m pretty sure he can’t make that noise either.” 

Keith arched a brow then glanced over the girl’s shoulder toward the bedroom behind her. The door was closed. “How do you. . .” he trailed off halfway through, not really sure he wanted the answer but Pidge supplied one. 

“I installed cameras when you were at work last week,” she shrugged it off as if that was a perfectly reasonable and sane thing to do to one’s own bedroom. Keith decided he had been right about not wanting the answer so chose to ignore it and instead focus on the more immediate concern. 

“Maybe we should check on that?” he waved a hand vaguely at the general direction of the noise. 

Pidge looked up from her screen, glanced toward the sound, then shrugged and went back to typing. Keith watched the girl expectantly. Neither of them got up. The sound continued. 

Keith arched a brow then pointed out, “You’re the technician.” 

“And you’re the man,” Pidge didn’t even look up for that. 

Keith gave her a flat look as he grumbled, “Way to empower the patriarchy.” 

“So long as I don’t have to get up,” she shrugged with a little smile. 

“Whatever,” Keith shook his head with a sigh and pushed himself off the couch to track down the noise. A few moments later he called from the utility room “I think the water heater’s doing it.” 

“Is it gonna blow up?” Pidge called back with too much casualness. 

Keith faltered then gave the old tank a wary look. “I don’t know. Is that a thing it could do?” 

“Well, it’s heating water in a closed space so, yeah. If the pressure builds up it could.” 

“How do I know if that’s happening?” Keith’s voice rose in pitch as he stepped away from the potential bomb. 

“There should be a pressure gauge or something,” Pidge didn’t sound concerned. 

Keith gave the ceiling an incredulous stare then shook his head and stepped back up to the tank, looking around the pipes and valves for any sort of gauge. After a moment he called back in frustration, “Can’t you just get up and help me with this?” 

“You’re a big boy,” Pidge called back dismissively. 

Keith glared at the offending tank and didn’t even try to keep the growl out of his voice. “Katie.” 

“What brand is it?” she gave in with a sigh. 

“Uuuh. . .” Keith hesitated a moment before finding the brand and model then called it back to her. He didn’t hear her typing over that awful whistling sound but knew she was pulling up a manual so she could tell him how to fix it. A few moments later she yelled back. 

“It’s on the left hand side under that big tangle of hoses that should be coming out of the wall.” 

“Ok. I see it. Now what?” 

“There should be a release valve under-” she cut off at the sudden change in pitch from the whistle and a bit curse. 

“Fuck!” Keith jerked his hand back from the sudden spray of steam that poured onto it when he tried to turn the valve. He’d only gotten it open a little before something stuck and spewed hot vapor. He heard a snap from the pipes as he glared at the red mark on his hand then jumped back when that turned into a swooshing splash. “Well. . . shit.” 

“Broke it, eh?” Pidge leaned against the door to the utility room with a mildly amused expression. Keith glared at her but she soothed his temper with an ice pack to his hand. “We should probably call Hunk.” 

Keith shook his head, turning to glare at the growing puddle on the floor. “We can fix it ourselves,” he knelt down to shove a screwdriver handle into the spewing pipe in an attempt to stop the flow. It worked. . . kind of. 

Pidge rolled her eyes, “Don’t make this a thing.” 

“It’s not a competition,” Keith frowned at her a bit poutily. 

“Hey. I’m not the stupidly competitive one,” she held up her hands with a shrug. That got a flat look. 

“Did you just call me stupid?” 

Pidge blinked then tilted her head. “Technically I called your competitiveness stupid but. . . well,” She flashed a coy grin. “When you’re a certified genius that just means _everyone’s_ stupid by comparison. It’s relative.” 

“Really?” Keith drawled with an even flatter expression, pulling away slightly to cross his arms over his chest. Pidge furrowed her brow as he shook his head. “So you just called _everyone_ stupid. Including me.” 

“Relatively?” she let the pitch bend up like a question as she gave a tight shrug and timid smile. 

“Uh-huh,” Keith nodded then pulled a flashlight off the shelf behind him and held it out to her. “You get to turn off the well.” 

Pidge blinked at the offered light then turned wide eyes up to the man in front of her with a little pout. “But it’s cold outside.” 

“Yeah. Shouldn’t have called the whole world stupid then,” he shrugged unsympathetically as he pulled up one of her hands to push the light into. She frowned deeply and started to protest but he cut her off. “If you’re gonna back up Shiro’s attempts to make me more ‘friendly’ then I’m going to help Allura make you more ‘human’ ok. Only fair.” 

“But you love your little robot,” Pidge pouted at him with wide eyes, tilting her chin up just right to catch a glare in her glasses then doing a jerky little twitch with her head and shoulder, like a glitch. He had to admit it was endearing (to him at least) and he did love her quirks. But it was fucking cold out there. 

“Nope. Not gonna work. I have developed an immunity,” he turned away to push open the back door and gave her a little push toward it. 

“Holy fuck-balls,” she squeaked jerking away from the sudden chill and folding in on herself for warmth. “I am at least wearing your boots,” she grumbled as she stomped into the much too large boots sitting by the door. Keith huffed a little laugh and pulled his coat off the wall then draped it over her shoulders and pulled it tight around her. 

“It’s fifty feet,” he smiled softly pressing a kiss on her forehead then giving her a little push out the door. 

“Yeah. Sixty-three actually. There and then another sixty-three back. So it’s actually a hundred and twenty-six feet,” she shouted at him as she trudged into the darkness. He just sighed a gentle laugh and watched her disappear around the back of the house. A few moments later a heavy thunk told him the breaker was tripped and she came stomping back, red cheeked and huddled in his oversized coat. 

“Not so bad,” Keith nearly purred as he pulled the door closed after her then jumped when icy fingers snuck under his shirt to warm themselves against his skin. “Ho. . . kay. Yeah,” his teeth chattered slightly as he pulled the girl in, not even trying to fight her off and just resigned to share his warmth. She buried her face in his chest, wiping her nose on his shirt as she wrapped her arms more fully around him to grip his back tightly. 

They stood like that a while, holding each other against the cold, till Pidge turned her head to the side and looked up at him with a wistful little smile. “Reminds me of Chicago.” 

Keith blinked at the words then smiled softly down at her with a slight nod. “Yeah. When we missed the last train.” 

She nodded slightly then grinned with a little giggle, “That time the phone froze to your face.” 

“You weren’t even there for that,” Keith pulled back slightly with a little frown. 

“You know I was with Lance when you were talking to him.” She giggled at the flat look he gave her then shrugged. “Now the time he tried to teach you how to ice skate-” 

“I am never going to live that down, am I?” 

“No. No you’re not.” 

“It’s really Lance’s fault. He’s the one that said the ice was thick enough.” 

“You’re the one that flung himself at it.” 

“I fell,” Keith gave her a flat look. 

“Suuure. That’s what you call it,” Pidge shook her head with a laugh. “You are so lucky Hunk and I were there to pull your dumb asses out,” she pulled him back in, ignoring his eye roll as she nuzzled her face into his shirt again. 

“It’s what you always do,” Keith idly drug a hand up her back as he spoke. “Get me out of trouble.” 

“Well. I try,” she laughed smiling up at him. “You don’t make it easy.” 

“Got us out of Fallujah,” he shrugged then faltered slightly and added, “Mostly.” 

Pidge hid a slight flinch then forced herself not to think about Shiro as she shook her head with a tight laugh. “Like I said. You don’t make it easy.” 

“Yeah,” what was left of Keith’s smile fell and a heavy silence began to settle but Pidge shook it off with a sigh and hugged her man closer, not about to let him dwell on old mistakes. 

“I’ll call Hunk in the morning. We can give him some of the venison to pay for the work and maybe he’ll cook for us.” She paused to smile up at Keith, gently pulling his chin down to face her. He forced a weak smile to make her feel better so she poked his cheek to force a better one. “Wanna make a huge mess trying to figure out what he puts in the hot chocolate?” 

Keith couldn’t help but huff a little laugh then smiled softly. “You know the secret ingredient is Love.” 

“That’s just what he wants you to think,” Pidge grinned as she pulled away, tugging him toward the kitchen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Please leave a comment so I can muster the will to continue.


	4. Show My Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Beer?” Keith held out the can. Hunk blinked at the offer before shaking his head._
> 
> _“Ah, yeah. No thanks, man. That’s. . . not really beer.”_
> 
> _Keith just shrugged it off and told the room, “Gonna take a shower,” then turned away to do just that._
> 
> _Hunk frowned then pointed out, “You’re already wet.”_
> 
> _“Was a stupid day,” Keith didn’t even glance back to grumble._
> 
> Pidge offers some comfort after a hard day. Ever more fluffy fun with the relationship dynamic and more hints at their history together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. . . uh. . . I lied about more going on this time. Next chapter has the stuff. . . I did say there isn't really a plot, yeah?
> 
> At least you get Hunk!
> 
> And thank you all so much for the comments last chapter. I really appreciate the feedback.

Keith hung his hat on the rack by the door and dropped his holster into the umbrella stand below it. Not at all proper gun safety but he couldn’t care less at the moment. Right now he just needed a cold beer and to get out of these wet clothes. At least Pidge already had the space heater on so the chill didn’t follow him in from outside. He was lucky the freeze had let up and it managed to stay only finger numbing cold and not frostbite worthy. Even luckier that he’d managed to get Dave to cover the rest of his shift. It would not have been a pleasant four hours sitting in that boat freezing his ass off while smelling of lake mud and still having to deal with drunk rednecks. 

“Keith?” Pidge called from the back room, bringing him out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah,” he answered with a grunt as he kicked out of his boots so he could slough off the mud caked pants that weighed down his step. 

“You’re home early,” Pidge casually talked at him through the walls. 

“Got my shift covered,” he stripped away all three layers of wet shirt and left a trail of discarded clothes from the front door to the fridge. 

“You ok?” there was a hint of concern to her voice this time. Understandable given the rarity with which Keith usually took sick days. 

“Fine,” he grumbled back as he pulled a beer from the fridge then closed it with his hip, ignoring the way that movement sent a pang of protest through his knee. 

Pidge accepted his answer without a fuss, something Keith truly appreciated, and just asked, “Wanna give us a hand in here?” 

“I just want to sit down and eat and sleep,” he popped open the beer can as if to emphasise his point then added, “I am a bear after a long day at the salmon canning factory.” That got a little giggle from her, she always appreciated his subtle absurdity, but he’d not expected a confused grunt to accompany it. Much too deep to be Pidge. Keith started to tense at the thought there was someone else in the house but. . . nope. Too tired to give a fuck right now. 

He turned to face the open doorway of the utility room and met eyes with Hunk. Big guy must have come over to help fix the water heater. Did not look prepared to see a nearly naked, still wet Keith standing in the middle of the open kitchen/living room as if he owned the place. Course he kinda did. But Keith wasn’t so socially inept to not know this was what most people would consider an ‘awkward’ situation. He just didn’t care. 

“Beer?” Keith held out the can he’d just opened as some sort of peace offering. Hunk blinked and took a moment to process the offer before shaking his head. 

“Ah, yeah. No thanks, man. That’s. . . not really beer.” 

Keith was too tired to have that argument again so he just shrugged it off and told the room, “Gonna take a shower,” then turned away to do just that. 

Hunk frowned for the lack of fight then pointed out, “You’re already wet.” 

“Was a stupid day,” Keith didn’t even glance back to grumble. 

Hunk gave Pidge a worried look as she stepped up beside him to watch Keith’s retreating back side. A pleasant sight for her if not for the limp that Keith was obviously trying to ignore as he pushed open the guest room door then disappeared behind it. 

“We don’t have company often,” Pidge tried to explain why Keith was wearing just his boxers and socks. 

“He didn’t even defend his Lone Star,” Hunk was more concerned about the beer. He had a good point. Usually Keith would have at least accused Hunk of turning Shiro into a beer snob with all his pretentious talk of flavors. It’s beer. It’s not supposed to taste good. 

Pidge exchanged a look with Hunk as that began to sink in then she shook her head and handed over the pipe wrench. “I’ma go check on Keith.” 

* * *

The guest room shower was not set up for the kind of moping Keith liked to do. His shower had a tile wall he could fold his arms over and lean his head against while he let the hot water run down his back. But there wasn’t hot water in his shower at the moment. Hadn’t been for three days. Hunk being here did mean that he’d have his shower back tomorrow but right now Keith had to make do with this one. Which could only loosely be called a shower by merrit of the little hand held sprinkler incorporated into to the antique bath faucet to resemble a victorian telephone. Pidge had gone a little overboard with the grandmother aesthetic on this one. But she liked it and Keith had his own, simple, reliable, tile walled, no nonsense, standard shower stall in the other bathroom. This was only temporary. 

Keith had just managed to get the ring of clingy curtain to back off from sticking to him and balanced the hand held shower head thing on his shoulder to let the near scalding water spray over his back when he heard the door open then Pidge’s voice. 

“You OK in there?” She sounded worried and that made Keith’s stomach turn. He didn’t like to worry her. 

“Fine,” he grunted back. There was a moment of pause, hesitation, before he heard her take a few steps closer to stand just outside the curtain. 

“You were limping.” 

Of course she would notice. Keith gave her a quick grunt to keep her from pressing but she wasn’t satisfied and pulled back the curtain. Just enough to peek her head through and give him a concerned look. He shuffled a bit to turn his left side away from her, trying to hide the aching knee but that really just drew attention to it. 

She gave him a flattening look, “I can see it’s swollen.” 

He tried to play it down with a little roll of one shoulder, “Twisted it falling off the boat.” 

“Oh, so that’s why you were wet,” Pidge arched a brow expectantly as Keith sort of nodded. 

“Couple rednecks resisted arrest.” 

“Well, at least they didn’t shoot at you this time,” Pidge huffed a casual laugh then paused when he didn’t agree. “Did they?” her worried look came back. 

“No,” Keith shook his head quickly but added with a mutter, “Just nearly tossed me into the propeller.” 

Pidge frowned and hesitated a moment then opened the shower curtain a little more as she asked, “What were they doing?” 

Keith twitched slightly for the cold that let in but didn’t stop her, just answered. “BUI, drunken disorderly, hunting without a license.” 

“Resisting arrest. Assault on an officer,” Pidge added to the charges as she gently rubbed a hand down his back. Keith leaned into her touch with a sigh. 

“More like drunken stumbling into an officer.” 

Pidge’s hand came to a stop just above the smatter of scars over his left side. “Slipped it didn’t you?” His back tensed for the question but he didn’t answer so she prodded him. “Keith. You need to wear your brace.” 

He glared petulantly at the shower curtain. “It’s not that bad.” 

“And now its swollen,” she reached down to give the offending joint a little poke. He flinched with a hiss for it. “You’ll have to wear the big brace at least a few weeks while it heals.” 

“I’m fine,” he grit through his teeth, shoulders tensing up. He half expected her to give the back of his knee a good knock but she pulled away instead. 

“Keith. You stretch that tendon much more you’re gonna need surgery.” 

He cringed. That was worse than hitting him. 

“You won’t pass PT,” she kept the jabs coming. 

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” he growled wishing she would stop. Of course she didn’t. 

“Should I tell the VA to cancel your prescription?” Her voice dripped innocence as she held up his pain pills then gave the little bottle a slight shake for emphasis. He glared. Hard. Then snatched bottle, took two. 

“Oh, it’s a two pill fine,” she couldn’t help but dig. 

“Katie,” he warned but she just met his glare. 

“Keith.” 

Seconds ticked loudly by, the clock on the wall marking each one as they drug out their little staring contest. Keith knew he was going to lose. He always did. Against her at least. Anyone else and he was the champion of the long stare. He’d even beaten the cats. But her. He just didn’t have the heart for it. She was right anyway. So he held it just long enough to satisfy his pride then dropped his eyes and gave in with a sigh. 

“I’ll wear the brace.” 

“Damn skippy,” she puffed up with the victory then reached into the shower and turned off the water. “You’ll soak your back too. I like the muscle but it should have a little give.” She poked the tight cord on his back just to make a point. 

Keith started to argue, say he’s fine, but she cut him off with a threateningly pointed finger in his face. 

“Say you’re fine again and you really won’t be.” She let that sit a moment to make sure it sunk in then pulled her finger away and gave his shoulder a little push to turn him around. “Now sit,” she commanded pulling back the curtain completely and finishing with a little wave at the tub he was standing in. Keith frowned slightly but obliged and carefully bent down then settled into the tub while she set the bath up for him, rambling as she did. 

“You and Shiro put all that work into dragging this 400 pound thing in here, might as well enjoy it.” 

“Your 400 pound thing,” he reminded lightly. She couldn’t help but correct. 

“My cast iron Swedish soaking tub. Which I love. Thank you.” She flashed him an appreciative grin and he returned it with a soft smile but faltered when she turned an electric heater on the back of the tub. 

“That doesn’t look safe.” 

“Don’t splash it.” She shrugged off his concern then reached into the tub and grabbed his leg, tipping him back with a bit of a splash to haul it out and drape over the side. “Now, keep your knee out,” she instructed casually as he recovered from the manhandling. Anyone else he’d have decked for that. But she was safe and knew it. The little pat she gave to his injured knee proved it. He just choked back a grunt as she left with a wave. “Get comfy. I’ll be right back.” 

Keith shook his head with a sigh as she closed the door behind her. Couldn’t just leave well enough alone. But then that was part of what made them work. Pidge saw through his bullshit and forced him to slow down. Annoying, yes, but he would have to admit someday that he wasn’t twenty anymore. The deep ache that ran the full length of his back wanted to make that day today. He stubbornly refused. A good soak would help. 

The tub was cold when he leaned back against it but he could feel the little electric heater starting to warm the metal. Keith sloshed some of the hot water against the back of the tub to help then laid against it and draped both arms over the sides before leaning his head back to close his eyes. He could feel the water rise as he took deep, slow breaths trying to relax. Splashing sounds from the faucet made a white noise that lulled him near sleep till he heard the door open again. He didn’t bother move as Pidge came in. 

“Clothes on the counter.” He heard her set something down then was hit with a shocking cold. He jerked up squeaking a little gasp as his eyes stared wide at the icepack perched on his knee. “For the swelling,” she gave him an innocent smile. He bit back a grumbling curse. She knew exactly what she’d done. Then shook his head with a huff. 

“Little warning.” 

“Wear your brace and it won’t swell.” Pidge offered a piece of cautionary advice and just smiled wider for the glare he gave her. “Sit up” she nudged his shoulder with one hand as she pulled a low stool over the heater with the other. He glanced at her as she sat behind him then leaned in to rub his back. 

“You don’t have t-” he started to protest but she cut him off. 

“You do this for me every month.” 

“I’m not a girl.” He muttered low but did sit up a bit so she could reach. He got a little slap on his shoulder for it. 

“Shut up and enjoy it.” 

Keith huffed a grunt that might have been a laugh or a scoff and refrained from telling her to stop hitting him. It wouldn’t work and she never hit hard. Well. Usually. But he always deserved it when she didn’t pull her punch. Sometimes it was just the only way to get through to him. Touch. Action instead of words. She understood. She knew him. Knew what he needed. How to calm him down. How to bring him back from the edge. Help him. She was always helping him. He’d never really had the chance to help her. She was too strong for that. Too independent and self actualized. Functional. She didn’t need him like he needed her. 

“Hey,” she called him out of his thoughts with a flick to his ear. “I'm not doing this so you can go all broody.” 

He blinked up at her with a muttered “Sorry” then smiled at the arched brow she gave him. “You really don’t have to.” 

“You do so much for me,” She leaned in to press a kiss against his cheek then sat back and smiled at the confused look her gave her. “Let me do this.” 

Keith just stared a moment then argued “I hardly do anything,” but didn’t really stop her. 

Pidge huffed a soft laugh and shook her head. “You do a lot of little things every day.” Keith didn’t look convinced so she rolled her eyes as she turned him back around then dug her thumbs into the knotted muscle on his shoulders, began to rub again. “I’m not him,” she spoke quietly. “I recognize true romance when I see it. No theatrics required.” He knotted his brow and glanced over his shoulder at her for that so she went on. “Every time you get up at 4am to placate the cats. Every morning you make coffee with the pour over even though you can’t tell the difference from drip. Every breakfast, lunch, and dinner you remind me to eat. Every night you take away my computer and carry me to bed. Every oil change and rotated tire. Every borderline illegal stunt you help me pull. Every argument you let me win. You don’t say the words much but you show your love in all the many things you do for me.” She paused to smile at him as Keith turned around to stare. She understands. He felt a genuine smile start in his gut and pulled all the way to his eyes. Her expression softened for it and she leaned in as she repeated, “So let me do this,” then pressed a kiss on his lips this time. He melted into it, reaching up a hand to tangle in her hair as he returned the gentle affection with warming passion. She understood what the actions meant but he still felt the need to say it. 

“I love you,” he panted breathless against her lips. 

“I know,” she purred at him with a teasing grin. He gave her a slightly flat look for making him the princess in that exchange but all it took was a little quirk of her smile and he really couldn’t be mad at her. She took advantage. But he didn’t really mind. Especially when she pulled away for an exaggerated stretch then gave him a devious smile. “Don’t need this,” she gave her shirt a taunting little tug, flapping it as if she were hot. He arched a brow and she smiled wider then stood up and stripped away the layers of her clothes. 

“What are you doing?” he huffed a little laugh but made no move to stop her as she stepped into the tub to straddle his stomach, careful of the knee but nothing else. 

“Just want to get a better angle,” she shrugged off his question then smiled wider when he gave her a confused look. 

“For what?” 

“Reach around,” she flashed a devious grin and he choked on a blushing laugh. 

“Hunk is here. We shouldn’t.” 

“Exactly.” 

* * *

Hunk was setting the table when Keith stepped out from the guest room, fully dressed now but with a towel over his shoulders to catch the drips from his wet hair. Pidge followed after, clinging to his arm with equally wet hair though didn’t bother the towel and just let it soak her shirt. She wore a shit eating grin like a badge of honor while Keith avoided eye contact even more than usual. Hunk gave the both of them a flat look then spoke with feigned casualness as he finished placing knives on the table. 

“You two done in there?” 

Keith nearly flinched and looked away with a muttered, “Yeah. Sorry about that.” 

“I’m not,” Pidge laughed as she peeled herself off his arm to stride across the room and steal a slice of cucumber from the salad that graced their table. Hunk rolled his eyes. 

“I didn’t think it possible but you are actually worse than Lance. I don’t even want to know what some of those sounds were.” 

“I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of,” the little gremlin shrugged it off as Keith fought the urge to crawl into a hole and die. 

“Really sorry about that, man.” 

Hunk arched a brow for the apology and let Keith hang a moment then shook his head with a sigh. “I am never sleeping on that bed.” 

“We weren’t on the bed,” Pidge overshared with a cheshire grin. 

“I. . . uh. . .” Keith cringed, “still wouldn’t suggest the bed.” 

Hunk stared uncomfortably at nothing and let an awkwardness only felt by two thirds of the room settle between them with a breathless “. . . Wow.” 

Thankfully the kitchen timer was kind enough to go off a few seconds later and spare Keith any further embarrassment. 

It was almost worth the shame when Hunk plated a thick slice of venison tenderloin for each of them. Keith knew how to cook without burning down the house (something that could not be said for a certain former roommate). Pidge could make anything if presented with a chemical equation and lab process. But no one could beat Hunk for the sheer joy of cooking. He made it an art to Keith’s necessity and Pidge’s science. Hunk’s cooking was a spiritual experience and this did not disappoint. 

Keith had long since learned to ignore the rambling introduction Hunk gave to each of his dishes. It didn’t really add anything to know the fancy names and techniques. Hunk was happy so long as Keith smiled and nodded at the right times then let himself make the sounds he couldn’t really help when finally allowed to taste the food. So he was only half listening, absorbed in the flavor experience, when Pidge spoke up with an appreciative sigh. 

“I would oppress half the human race for this.” 

It was Hunk’s reaction, pausing mid bite, fork hanging half out of his mouth with wide, questioning eyes trained on the girl at Keith’s side that made him realise, yes. She did just say what he thought he heard. 

“Uh. . ?” Keith made an eloquent inquiry. Pidge blinked at him as if he were slow then turned to Hunk seeking confirmation but got an equally confused stare. 

“What?” she huffed with a shrug. “You’re men. You should get it.” 

Both of them twitched at the accusation then Hunk turned to Keith with a serious expression. “You are a bad influence.” 

“Me?!” 


	5. Third Wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _  
> “Maybe I just wanted to experience your magic couch.” Lance patted the back of the couch. “Hunk won’t shut up about it. Says it’s the best sleep he’s had in years.”_
> 
> _“We have a guest room.” Keith offered but Pidge cut in._
> 
> _“Nope. That’s the sex bed. He sleeps on the couch.”_
> 
> _Lance blinked. “Sex bed?”_
> 
> _Keith just sort of avoided eye contact with a slow shrug but Pidge. She purred, “It has bars. And traction.”  
> _
> 
> Get a look into the mind of an introvert at Shiro’s birthday dinner then an estranged Lance shows up on Keith’s doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces a whole mess of characters along with some new tensions and slightly faster pace. Hope y’all like it. 
> 
> Let me know in the comments how it sits with you. I’ll lean more toward a plot-ish if you like it or back off into pure fluff again if you don’t. 
> 
> I’m writing this for you guys so please don’t be shy about giving your opinions or even requesting things.
> 
> Seriously. I’m more of a game master than a writer, really, so I do better with a little direction from an audience.

It was less green here but even in the rocky hill country of central Texas, winter was still the rainy season. Water poured in heavy sheets from an angry sky making rivers in the gravel beds outside the window. The cactus and yucca planted there took it in stride but the delicate flowers spaced between them were being ripped to shreds. Keith sat with his arms folded over his chest, head tilted toward the window and ignored the conversation around him in favor of watching the rain tear apart the fragile plant. It belonged out there about as much as he did in here. Not that he wasn’t welcome. Of course he was. It’s a public place, just a restaurant, but Keith never felt right in crowds. It wasn’t anxiety, not really. He just didn’t feel like he belonged. He wasn't really a part of it. And didn’t want to be. Crowds are loud, messy, boring things that carelessly sucked the energy right out of him and were more likely to be offended that he was tired than apologize for making him so. He much preferred the meaningful interaction of a small group over the vacuous din of a crowd. But he couldn’t just avoid them altogether. Every now and then he had to suffer for the people he loved. Such is the plight of an introvert. 

This year Keith had managed to get through most of the winter with hardly any socialization at all. Shiro and Allura were on holiday with Coran’s family in England and Shay took Hunk to visit her extended family in Pakistan so they didn’t have the usual circus of dinners, parties, and massive gatherings that just seemed to get bigger every year. That’s what happens when you let the branch manager and head chef of the second largest venue service in Texas plan your holiday schedule. With those two out of the country, all Keith had to worry about was Pidge’s family and they had been busy. Matt was away on some sort of field research in the Bush and their mother had decided it was a good time to check that Mediterranean cruise off her bucket list. So Keith took the holiday shift this year. He got paid time and a half to sit in his truck and watch deer graze under the hunting stands. They knew as well as he did that no one was going to be out there for the holidays. And it was sublime. 

Now that everyone was back though, Allura had decided Shiro’s birthday was the perfect excuse to make up for lost time. So Keith found himself sitting in one of those pretentious, upscale ‘Tex-Mex’ restaurants the hipsters in Austin flock to because they’ve never had a taste of the real stuff in their lives and couldn’t handle the heat if they tried it. Real Tex-Mex doesn’t come with table cloths and wine glasses. It’s like BBQ, the best stuff wouldn’t pass health inspection. But Shiro liked going to these places. He’d convinced Hunk it was to ‘keep an eye on the competition’ though Keith suspected he might just be making excuses to eat food that isn’t going to melt his tongue.

Keith didn’t really care so much about the food though. He’d eaten plenty of squirrel, snake, and even bugs so a little cilantro in his ‘Tex-Mex’ wasn’t going to stop him from eating it. He just wished the place wasn’t so damn crowded. His friends knew him well enough to request a corner table so he could keep his back to the wall and there was even a window he could look out if he started feeling claustrophobic but they couldn’t do anything about the noise. That was the real problem though. Keith was pretty sure his friends thought he had social anxiety but really he just couldn’t hear them in a crowd. He wasn’t going deaf, if anything his ears were too good. It was a processing issue. The noise put him into sensory overload so he couldn’t pick out any one sound from all the rest, making it impossible to follow a conversation. Which was alienating. Made him feel like a third wheel for not being able to keep up. But this was ok. These were his friends, his family, they were satisfied with his presence and Pidge’s hand on his thigh under the table helped keep him calm, grounded despite the crowded din of the restaurant around him. 

“Earth to Keith,” Pidge leaned in to nudge his shoulder as she called him out of his head. 

He blinked at her then everyone else. The whole table was staring at him. Obviously someone had asked a question but he didn’t hear it so was forced to reply with an eloquent, “Huh?”

The four year old across the table giggled for it but her mother shushed that as Allura gently explained, “Alfie was asking if you have any new stories from work.” 

“Oh.” Keith hated that soft, patient tone in her voice - it was the same one she used with the children. Patronizing. But he knew she didn’t mean anything by it. Probably couldn’t even help it. So just shrugged it off and answered. Though didn’t have much to answer with. “Uh, not really.” He gave Shiro’s boy down the table an apologetic shrug. Alfie returned it with a little pout but Pidge kept him from complaining by offering a more interesting answer.

“He fell off the boat a few months ago.” She seemed determined not to let him live that one down. Keith shot her a glare for it but she was not phased. The others looked mildly concerned.

“I’m fine,” Keith cut them off from asking then added, “Just some rednecks,” so they wouldn’t question it. They all knew Keith didn’t like talking about himself though they all thought that wasn’t healthy so tried to drag words out of him anyway but he was a master of keeping his mouth shut. It made for some awkward stalls in conversation till they gave up and moved on. Thankfully there were enough children at the table that it wouldn’t take long. Hunk’s youngest came through after just a few moments.

“Is ta pooma ok?” the little girl across the table asked with a drawly lilt. It took Keith a moment to translate while the others grinned at her adorableness. He could only guess she was talking about the mountain lion he’d rescued that summer.

“Uh. Yeah. The puma’s fine.” He nodded then went on when the girl gave him a brilliant smile. “She’s all better now. Probably release her from the sanctuary soon.”

Alfie perked up for that and leaned into the table with excitement. “Can we see her?” 

“She's a wild animal,” Shiro shut him down immediately. Not that Keith would have said yes. He learned that lesson with the gator. Children can not be trusted around wild animals.

“Hey, uh. Didn’t you say something about taking a bald eagle in last week?” Hunk threw out a distraction before the boy started to argue. 

“Really?” Alfie stared at Keith in awe, puma completely forgotten.

“Oh. Yeah.” Keith couldn’t help a small smile at the kid’s excitement. “Some hunters found it. Had a broken wing so I got a call to take it to the rescue. Was huge. Bigger than your baby sister.” He nodded at the toddler asleep against Allura’s shoulder. 

“Wow,” the boy drawled a breathless sound then held up his hands to measure the little girl. 

“Yep,” Pidge popped the ‘p’ to get Alfie’s attention and keep the kid from waking his sister. “My boy gets to do all kinds of amazing things. He’s like a police officer for the forest.” 

“That's so cool!” the boy nearly bounced then turned to his father with an almost accusing pout. “Why don't you get to do anything cool?”

Shiro blinked then looked around the table in shocked confusion. He was met mostly with stifled laughs but Keith didn’t get the joke and just shrugged when Shiro locked eyes with him. The boy was expecting an answer so Shiro shook his head then looked back to his son. “I fly a chopper. Is that not cool?”

“You don't get to arrest people,” the boy argued with a little huff. Shiro arched a brow and glanced around to catch amusement on the other’s faces. Keith just shrugged again. Shiro gave his son a patient smile.

“I get to meet all kinds of famous people.”

“You just carry them around,” the preteen at the far end of the table looked up from her phone for the first time all evening to throw her father a challenging stare. “Uncle Lance gets to go on stage with them.”

The adults at the table all missed a beat for mention of Lance. It was still a sore subject that he’d stopped coming to these ‘family’ gatherings. Though he did have the decent excuse of living in New York now, that never stopped him when he was in LA. Of course that was before Nyma. And the twins. Moments like these made Keith so very grateful that Pidge agreed with his decision never to have children. They wrecked your life then turned into teenagers.

“That's just the musicians,” Shiro recovered with a weak laugh. “I get to meet all the others too.”

The girl just shrugged and dropped her attention back to her phone with a dismissive, “Musicians are the only ones that count.”

Shiro gaped at her but his son gently patted his prosthetic arm and offered a solem condolence. “Just face it, Dad. You're not cool.”

“How is Lance, by the way?” Coran cut in before Shiro’s youngest managed to somehow put him down as well. “I believe he was touring with that electric funk salsa fusion band last I heard but that was some time ago now.” 

Keith tuned out of the conversation when the adults started talking again. They were harder to follow than children, especially now they weren’t talking directly to him so he couldn’t exactly watch their mouths. Not that he could really read lips but it did help to pick out what was being said. He didn’t particularly care to hear this anyway so just let his eyes wander over the faces around him, familial smiles, then settled on watching the big, black four and zero shaped balloons tied to the back of Shiro’s chair as they spun in the draft from a ceiling fan above them. 

Not much longer, Keith reminded himself as he counted their rotations. This would only last another hour or two before the small talk ran out and kids got restless. Then they’d all go back to Shiro’s place for drinks and put the little ones down. Maybe play some card games before they let the introverts escape to a hotel room. At least the breakfast tacos would be good, Austin did that right. Then it was just a four hour drive back to the quiet embrace of the piney woods. Something to look forward to. He only had to get through the next few hours.

* * *

Shiro’s birthday had been two days ago now but Keith swore he was still hung over from it. He refused to acknowledge that it might just be from staying up all night playing a sort of rugby in the green space behind Shiro’s house then passing out on the back lawn cuz they were adults dammit and could do what they want. Shay and Allura had shaken their heads at the menfolk when they found them in the morning but Pidge was right there with them, passed out on Keith’s chest with grass in her hair. She hadn’t been drinking though, at least not in the liver killing quantities that Keith and Shiro had knocked back, and had almost completely recovered so Keith was convinced this is a hangover. 

That put him in an already grumpy mood when he opened the door just a few minutes before midnight to glare at whatever idiot dared to disturb his couch time. Keith was not prepared for who it turned out to be. Blue eyes stared back at him, hopeful, shining smile a bit sheepish with a piebald tabby nuzzling against his cheek as it rumbled a loud purr. Keith blinked to make sure he wasn’t seeing things but that didn’t change the image in front of him. Blue eyes. Caramel skin. Chocolate hair. Pidge’s damn cat practically hugging a stranger. Keith narrowed his eyes slightly and let his gaze drift to the bags at his feet, luggage, a matched set, seven pieces of it, then glanced past him to the rental car parked awkwardly in the gravel circle drive. It was dark. And late. And Keith knew the nearest motel was twenty miles up country roads. This was going to be stupid. He just knew it. Reluctantly, he looked back at the boy - no, man - on his porch then gave a little nod.

“Lance.”

“Keith.” Blue eyes nodded back but the smile was looking a little strained. “I. . . uh. I think this is yours?” He held out the cat. Keith gave the animal a flat look but helped Lance pry the thing off his shirt. “Friendly little guy. Nearly gave me a heart attack jumping up on the hood of the car as I was getting out.” Lance rambled to fill the silence but Keith wasn’t going to let him get away with the distraction. He casually tossed the cat through the open door behind him then leveled a guarded stare on the man in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” Keith didn’t mean for it to sound like an accusation. He was just too tired to stop.

Lance heard it but pulled up his smile anyway. “I came to visit.” He was all nonchalance and charm. Keith knew it was fake.

“At midnight. Without calling.”

“Yeah. Well.” Lance shrugged off all logic. “I was in the neighborhood.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed. “There is no neighborhood, Lance. This is the only house for miles.”

Lance’s smile tightened in frustration but he kept at it. “Fine. I was in the area-”

“You live in New York.” Keith cut him off. “What are you even doing in Texas?”

“Oh my god, Keith.” Lance’s eyes went wide, nostrils flared. “Just shut up and listen!”

“Then stop lying.” Keith crossed his arms over his chest in clear challenge.

Lance pursed his lips with a flat glare for it but Keith wasn’t going to back down so he threw up his hands, “Fine. Nyma kicked me out. Ok. You happy?”

“No.” Keith uncrossed his arms and relaxed his stance a bit but continued to push. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here. On my porch. At midnight.”

Lance held a moment longer before deflating. “She more than kicked me out. She wants a divorce.” He looked away and Keith could see the hurt in those blue eyes. It was real. Keith knew it was. But. . .

“Still doesn’t explain-”

“Look I don’t know. Ok.” Lance puffed back up, flailing hands as he talked. “I mean. . . well. I just needed to get away for awhile. From her. New York.” He stopped one hand to pull it through his hair, still talking with the other. “When I got on the plane I was thinking I’d stay with Hunk but I didn’t get ahold of him till I was sitting in layover and he hardly had time to talk all busy with some big catering something this weekend and apparently one of his girls has regionals so Shay’s out with her.” He stopped for a breath and wide shrug. “No big deal. Guy’s got a life, you know. So I figured I’d just rent a car and drive to Shiro’s.” He waved at the car behind him. “But then the flights got delayed so it was stupid late when I got into Houston and. . . just. . . I don’t know. You were on the way?” His voice went up like a question, unsure of himself. Keith recognized Lance’s vulnerable behavior. The fast rambling. Hand waving. Not making eye contact. And that thing he did slumping his shoulders as he gripped the cords of his hoodie to keep his hands still-ish. He knew Lance was telling the truth. It just didn’t make any sense.

“On the way?” Keith asked carefully for clarification.

Lance blinked, looking up to meet his eyes. He took a moment to catch on then nodded. “Well. Yeah. To Shiro’s.”

Keith arched a brow, unimpressed. “Not even remotely.”

“What?” Lance did one of his dramatic double takes.

“Lance.” Keith forced himself to be calm. Patient. “We’re closer to Louisiana than Austin.”

“But. But,” Lance sputtered. “I thought your place was like halfway?”

“When we lived in Brenham. We moved. Three years ago. I got transferred. Remember?”

“Oh.” Lance’s shoulders sagged again. “Right.”

Keith tried to bite his tongue but just couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Did you even look at a map?”

“I was driving!” Lance threw his hands at the car. “I just put your address in my phone and followed directions.”

“Didn’t think it odd you were going the wrong direction?”

“Not everyone keeps a compass on their dashboard.” Lance shot back with a glare and Keith almost returned it but Lance pulled away with a sigh, holding up a hand to stop him, rubbing his eyes with the other one. “Look. Keith.” His voice was soft, tired, serious when he looked back. “I’m pretty sure you would have murdered someone if you had the day I’ve just been through so. . . can we just. . . not do this right now?”

It was the pleading look in those blue eyes that got to him. Made Keith take a deep breath then nod. “Ok. It’s late.” He forced himself to relax, come down from the near fight. Lance gave him a relieved smile then went a bit awkward as neither of them seemed to know what to do now. Keith arched a brow and glanced to the car. “You shouldn’t try these roads at night so. . . you can sleep here.” He started to step back through the open door but stopped, looked at the car again then at Lance. “Where are the kids?”

Lance failed to hide a flinch but shrugged it off. ”Momma took them. Till I. . . get myself straightened out. She. . . said it would be better that way. In case Nyma. . . tried for custody.”

“Oh.” Keith grunted. He’d not even though of that. “I’m. . . sorry.”

“Yeah. . .” Lance looked away in the awkward silence that threatened to settle but shook it off with a forced laugh. “Not my first divorce you know. I’ll be fine.”

Keith blinked. He could tell Lance was lying again, hiding. But sometimes that’s just what you had to do. Pretend everything’s Ok till it is. So Keith ignored the fear and pain hiding under Lance’s bravado and did what he would have if it were real. Make fun of him. “You were kinda asking for it when you married that one.”

Lance jerked at the barb and for a moment Keith worried he might have fucked up, actually hurt Lance. But the shock gave way to a slightly less forced grin and Lance quirked an eyebrow as he leaned in to pur, “That’s coming from the guy who’s been engaged for seven years.” Keith’s near worry fell into a flat look but it just made Lance laugh. “Set a date yet?”

“Why fix what ain’t broke?” Keith folded his arms with a challenging look.

Lance shrugged, “I guess it is easier just to keep living in sin.” He was grinning though.

Keith rolled his eyes, “Sound like your mother.”

“She says ‘Hi’ by the way.” Lance softened his smile and Keith tried not to be awkward about it but. . . there was a lot to be awkward about when it came to Lance’s mother. So he took the opportunity to notice that Lance was shivering. 

“It’s cold. Come in.” Keith grabbed a few of the bags without asking then turned through the door to lead Lance inside. Of course they had to stop just a few feet in for the dog to be sure Lance wasn’t someone she needed to guard against. Keith was about to shoo her away when Lance knelt down with a hand held out.

“Hey. . . Lucy, right?” Lance practically cooed. “You remember me, yeah? It’s been a few years,” more like four, “But I’m the one that taught all the kids to feed you bacon under the table.”

“Thanks so much for that,” Keith grumbled then crossed his arms when the dog bowed her head at Lance, allowing him an attempt to win her over with petting. Apparently Lance did it right because she ended up on her back half in his lap, best friends for life. Keith rolled his eyes and shared a glance with the fluffy black cat watching from its perch on the rafters then nudged the both of them to get off the floor with a muttered, “Traitor” at the dog. Lance laughed for it as he got up.

“Did she kick him out?” Pidge called from couch as if to break the lighter mood.

Keith gave Lance a quick look to see how he took it and frowned. Lance half shook his head, half shrugged but still didn’t say anything so Keith answered for him, “. . . Yeah.”

“Ha! Called it.” Pidge did not pick up on the awkwardness. Or just didn’t care. It was hard to tell sometimes. “Now you have to do laundry for the rest of the month.” Keith cringed as Lance gasped in exaggerated offence.

“You had a bet over Nyma kicking me out?”

Keith did not feel like dealing with this so just shook his head with a sigh and walked Lance through the curtains to the living room where Pidge was sprawled out on the couch, laptop on her outstretched legs, managing to take up two thirds of the space despite her being tiny and it being a large couch. 

“We had a bet over which one would do it.” She informed with a coy grin. “Keith thought you were too smart to stay with that bitch but I know you’re an idiot.”

Lance’s brow twitched for the insult so Keith tried to soften the blow. “It was before the kids.” 

“Oh,” Lance turned a flat look on him, dripping with sarcasm. “Well that makes it Ok then.”

“So what happened?” Pidge asked to take the heat off Keith and got a classic brush off for it.

“Ah. You know. Nyma.”

“Yeah.” Pidge’s eyes narrowed. “We also know you.”

“Hey. Maybe I just wanted to experience your magic couch.” Lance patted the back of the couch with both hands then leaned on it a bit. “Hunk won’t shut up about it. Says it’s the best sleep he’s had in years.”

Pidge recognised this obvious attempt at changing the subject and was about to push for information again but Keith really did not want to watch an interrogation right now so he ran with the change.

“We have a guest room.”

“Nope.” Pidge cut in quickly and Keith worried she was going to keep pushing but, well. “That’s the sex bed. He sleeps on the couch.” 

Lance blinked while Keith tried to decide if this was better or worse than what he’d been expecting. He was still not sure when Lance tilted a wide eyed stare at him. “Sex bed?”

Keith just sort of avoided eye contact with a slow shrug but Pidge. She purred, “It has bars. And traction.”

“Uuuhhh. . .” Lance stared at the little gremlin as Keith gently facepalmed and shook his head. “Ok. . . umm. . . it’s not a sex couch is it?” Lance asked like he didn’t really want to know the answer and who could blame him. 

At least Keith had a good response for that so he quickly pointed to the sign hanging over the TV in front of the couch before Pidge could take the teasing any further. It was a ratty old sign that looked to be little more than a ripped piece of cardboard with bold letters stenciled in deep purple ink that read ‘NOT ON THE COUCH’ right across the middle.

“Heh. . .” Lance huffed an awkward laugh as he stared at the thing. “I thought we threw that away.” Lance might have if he’d been the one to clean the shared apartment when Hunk moved out and they got a smaller place. But he wasn’t. Lance had been in class which left Keith to do all the packing. He’d kept the sign at the bottom of a boot box full of other little memories quietly tucked away in the closet for years. Pidge had found it when they were unpacking at this house and took great pleasure in rehanging the sign she’d made so long ago to keep Lance from defiling the couch when they’d all lived together.

Of course that was not something Keith really wanted to talk about so he just rolled a shrug and took Lance’s bags into the guest room. Wherever he decided to sleep, their tiny living room kitchen did not have the space for a seven piece set of luggage. Lance started to help but Keith shook his head and motioned for him to sit on the couch. Maybe they would get the awkward conversation out of the way where Keith didn’t have to hear it. 

Lance hesitated but gave in and took the short walk around the couch to stare down at Pidge who was still impressively sprawled out and made no signs of moving.

“My spot,” she motioned at the two cushions she was occupying, “Everyone else,” she pointed at the one free cushion on the far end. Lance arched a brow and might have said something to argue the fairness of that if he’d not had such a shit day. As it was, he just sat down at the end of the couch with a heavy sigh and stared into the quaint little bookshelves along the wall flanking the TV. Pidge seemed satisfied with this and turned her attention back to the computer in her lap. Quick, rhythmic typing was all that filled the silence between them and that made Lance’s skin crawl. He hated silence. So he did what he always does when it got too quiet and talked.

“So. Yeah. . . nice. . . uh. Place?” Things were too awkward for him to sound very sure of it but at least Pidge responded with a little nod, even if she didn’t look up from her screen.

“We like it.”

“Yeah. . .” Lance drawled to make noise then offered a weak smile. “Makes sense Keith would get a cottage in the middle of nowhere. Swear I heard banjos when I crossed the railroad track. Didn’t think you would be all for the hermit life though, Pidge.”

“It was cheap.” The girl shrugged, still not looking up. “All I care about is the internet and we got an optic line.”

“Yeah. That’s. . . nice. . .” Lance fidgeted in the silence that threatened to fall again but was briefly saved when Keith came back from the guest room. Lance smiled hopefully up at him and Keith returned it with a little nod as he walked around the couch then lifted Pidge’s legs to sit on the middle cushion between them, dropping her feet in his lap. She glanced up to give Keith a warm smile and wiggle into a comfortable position but went right back to typing once she was settled. Keith didn’t seem to mind though and just picked up a book. Neither of them said a word.

Lance stared. He really shouldn’t be at all surprised. He’d seen them together before. They had always been like this. Even when they weren’t a couple. They had always just. . . fit together without a word passed between them. Even in silence, doing their own separate things, they were still comfortably together. Lance forced himself not to get jealous over the contented smile that softened Keith’s face, or the idle circles he was rubbing into the arch of Pidge’s left foot without being asked to or making a deal of it. He didn’t even seem to realise he was doing it. No one had ever rubbed Lance’s feet like that.

“So. . . uuh. . .” Lance couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Why’s it look like you got a 90 year old lady to decorate?”

Keith’s brow twitched for the question and his contented smile faded back to the slightly annoyed expression Lance was used to seeing. Pidge glanced up, perhaps because Keith stopped rubbing her feet, then huffed a little laugh as she wiggled her toes under Keith’s hand. He blinked then resumed rubbing as she gave a simple answer. 

“Kind of did.”

“Uh?” Lance grunted for clarification. This time Keith filled in the details.

“Furniture came with the house.”

“Oh. Huh.” Lance tilted his head to let his eyes wander over the old lady decor, complete with a little grey cat sleeping in front of the TV. 

“Estate auction.” Pidge added to the picture. “Some of the nicer stuff went separate but most of it got sold together.”

“Estate. . .” The word rolled around Lance’s head a moment searching meaning before it clicked. “So. . . some old dead lady decorated your house?”

“Yep” Pidge popped the ‘p’ for a teasing effect. Lance frowned. 

“Don’t tell me she died in it too.”

“Oh yeah.” Pidge grinned, the light of her laptop catching her glasses just right. “In the guest bed.”

“The. . . sex bed?” Lance cringed for the thought.

“Uh-huh.” Pidge nodded with a wiggle of her brow.

Lance shivered. “You have sex in the bed an old lady died in.”

“We got a new mattress.” Keith put in for their defense and just hoped that Lance didn’t notice the rising blush that threatened his cheeks. “The other bed was her grandmother’s.”

“Great-grandmother’s.” Pidge corrected. “But also Nana’s. Kind of an heirloom. The family bed. It’s been retired from sex.” Keith turned his attention back to his book to avoid eye contact. Lance just stared a while then huffed a quiet laugh.

“Sooo. . . yeah. You two are just as socially inappropriate as ever.”

“Thank you.” Pidge beamed for that. “We really try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo. . . Confession time. One of my goals with this fic is to provide a more accurate depiction of the inner workings of an extreme but (mostly) healthy introvert. As an introvert myself I'm not really happy with the way most people depict us as anxiety riddled, depression plagued, broken people in search of the right extrovert to 'fix' us. Now that's not to say Keith doesn't have some issues, he absolutely does, but they've got nothing to do with him being an introvert and an extrovert would (and did) only make them worse. That's based off personal experience so I know it's realistic.
> 
> That said. I am one of the most rare kinds of introvert (a female INTJ) trying to write one of the more common types (the male ISTP). While I do benefit from having a living example of this type to study, ISTPs aren't known for their ability to effectively communicate their thoughts and especially not their feelings. From what I can tell my boy doesn't get sensory overload from crowds but he's been desensitized to them after years of being forced to socialize by extroverted friends and colleagues. I'm better at telling people to fuck off so am less good with crowds but I'm pretty sure it's believable for an ISTP to have this problem. Right?
> 
> I can't be the only one that gets the sensory overload thing in a crowd. That's not super weird is it?


	6. Younger Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You remember when Hunk threw up in the bulkhead?” Lance asked._
> 
> _Keith blinked then broke a little smile. “Iverson said vomit isn’t an approved lubricant.”_
> 
> _“Yeah,” Lance grinned. “Then he made us all strip clean the chopper as some kind of really sick team building exercise.”_
> 
> _“So we put laxatives in his coffee.” Keith finished the story with a wry arch of his brow.  
> _
> 
> Bit of a change, this one’s split between Keith and Lance’s PoV dealing mostly with their history together as seen through the lens of the present.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry there’s almost no Pidge this time but a couple can’t always be together. And she really didn’t want to wake up. 
> 
> Hope the alternating PoV isn't hard to follow but I wanted to get both sides of the relationship dynamic and Keith didn't want to even think about their past so I got Lance to do it.
> 
> Please let me know if you like the way it's going.
> 
> And if you've got a moment have a listen to the song that inspired this chapter:  
> [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tjgfP9XoPLI&t=243](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tjgfP9XoPLI&t=243)  
> BJ Barham - When We Were Younger Men
> 
> I’ve also now got Tumblr so follow me for updates to all my fics, random arts, and general appreciation:
> 
> [umbraja.tumblr.com](https://umbraja.tumblr.com)

Pink light was just beginning to color the horizon, barely visible through the wall of trees. Birds had just started chirping. Deer were still grazing in the meadow. The cats had not yet begun to sing the song of their people, begging to be let out. It was twilight. That magic hour just before dawn when the night still lingers like a dream fog over the coming day. It was Keith’s favorite time. Fresh from sleep and safe from bother given how so few other people were usually conscious at this hour. When he’d lived in the city it was the only quiet he got. Out here it was quiet most of the time but he still liked the dawn.

Keith laid in bed listening to the morning birdsong as he drifted between waking and sleep. He would need to get up eventually. He had a shift today. But that wasn’t for a few hours and it was warm in the blankets. Pidge hadn’t managed to steal them all, or crowd him to the edge of the bed, or even dig a knee into his back. He was about to silently thank her for that when he heard something clatter from the kitchen. Maybe a pan. The cats didn’t usually get into the cabinet. Then he heard dishes rattling. Ah. Pidge hadn’t gone to bed. That girl was hopeless without him.

Just as Keith started to slide out of the bed and bring her in, a muffled murmur came from the blankets beside him. He froze. A brief moment of panic ripped through him but when he looked down it was Pidge. Her glasses were half hanging off the nightstand and there was a shirt on the lamp but she’d crawled to bed sometime in the night. Keith couldn’t help a soft smile at the impressive cowlick that stood up on the back of her head or the way she had somehow tangled herself in two of their three blankets. If he had all day he could spend it just watching her so he spared a few moments at least to appreciate the sight. The cats probably wouldn’t set the kitchen on fire.

It was the sound of the refrigerator opening that got Keith to worry. He was pretty sure the cats couldn’t do that. At least he hoped not. What could it be though? Keith ruled out racoon for the lack of alien sounds coming from the cats. They’d pitched quite the hissy fit when Pidge left the door open overnight and a racoon got inside a few years back. Bear maybe? Please not a bear. Keith threw on a t-shirt and pair of jeans as he listened at the bedroom door trying to convince himself it wasn’t a bear. Would explain why the dog wasn’t making noise. She knew better than to mess with bears.

If Keith was anyone else he would be able to call the local game warden to take care of the problem. But who does the game warden call? He’d feel a lot better about this if he were in uniform. At least he didn’t have to go out unarmed. Keith grabbed the shotgun from a rack in the corner just in case, snatching up a few shells and loading it as he crept out of the bedroom and across the foyer, trying not to think of the damage he’d seen bears do. 

When he got to the curtain that separated the foyer from living room kitchen he paused a moment to listen. There was an almost rhythmic swishing and occasional clink of plates. None of the usual grunting and knocking things over. This was a very dainty bear. And then it did something no bear should. It sang. In Spanish.

“ _Suerte que en el sur hayas nacido y que burlemos las distancias, suerte que es haberte conocido y por ti amar tierras extrañas._ ”

Not a bear. Keith’s mind adjusted and his grip tightened on the stock of the shotgun. Just the absolute dumbest burglar to ever burgle. Who the fuck robs a house with the obviously marked ‘I am a fucking law enforcement officer' truck parked in the driveway? Keith wished his handcuffs weren’t in the guestroom. He would have to make do with duct tape. So bit back a frustrated curse as he pushed open the curtain with the barrel of the shotgun and followed it through to sneak up on the tall, dark skinned man rummaging through his fridge. A pothead, that's who. Criminals make no goddamn sense.

“Freeze!” Keith used his cop voice to bark at the man who jumped with a choked gasp and started to reel back. “I said freeze,” Keith growled and punctuated it with the very audible and unmistakable sound of cocking the shotgun. 

“What the, Is that-?” the man whined but did as told. 

“Hands where I can see them.” Keith cut him off from asking any stupid questions. Way too early to deal with that.

“Whoa, ok.” The man huffed a nervous laugh and slowly pulled his hands out of the fridge. 

“Now turn around.” Keith instructed as per protocol. He was really not looking forward to the paperwork on this.

“Hey, man. I’m sorry I didn’t ask, ok. Didn’t think it would be a-” the man stopped with a jerk as he turned to catch sight of the shotgun pointed at him. “Holy cheeseballs, Keith! Is that thing loaded? What the Fuck?!” 

“Lance?” Keith looked at the man’s face when he heard his name. “What are you. . .” he started to ask but then last night came back to him. Lance had shown up unannounced and Keith let him crash on the couch. It had been so unexpected Keith thought it was just a dream. But here he was. Sleep clothes wrinkled, hair a mess, ridiculous lion slippers and all.

“Uuuh. . . Keith?” Lance called him out of his head and pointed down at the gun, not dropping his hands to do it.

“Oh. Yeah,” Keith lowered the shotgun with a quiet grunt then opened the breech and shook out both shells to unload it. Lance watched with wide eyes.

“It _was_ loaded!” 

“I thought you were a bear.”

“A bear?”

“Or a very stupid criminal.”

Lance just stared a moment trying to make sense of that. “You forgot I was here.” 

“Yeah, well.” Keith huffed, pocketing the shotgun shells. “You didn’t exactly call ahead.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that.” Lance frowned but Keith leveled a serious glare on him for it.

“Feel lucky I’m a trained officer and not some panicky git who’d’ve shot ya through tha curtain.”

“Heh. . .” Lance trailed off with an awkward sound then flashed a tight smile. “Your country’s showing.”

Keith just glared harder a moment then set the shotgun down on the kitchen table and turned away to dig through the cabinets by the sink. Lance blinked for this lack of response. He was used to Keith rising for bait like that. It felt weird not to get at least a snarky comeback. And now there was an awkward silence settling between them as Keith poured whole coffee beans into a beaker sitting on a scientific scale.

“Sooo. . .” Lance drawled just to fill the void. “Hunk wasn’t lying about that couch, man. Once Pidge got off the rest of it and I managed to stretch out it really was like being cradled in a warm cloud.”

Keith just grunted with a little something between a shrug and nod. He didn’t even look at Lance for it, just carefully measured out the beans then dumped them into a grinder. Lance arched a brow and fidgeted as silence threatened again. 

“It was nice till the cats decided I’d make a good pillow. That tabby is heavy, man. I think I’ve got bruises from where he stepped on me.”

“Mhm,” Keith grunted again then turned on the grinder and filled an electric kettle to boil water as that made noise. At least it broke the silence for a moment but didn’t last. Lance watched with a slight frown as Keith ignored him and pulled an odd looking metal teacup thing from the cabinet along with a chipped white coffee cup. He set the metal cup on top and dropped a filter in then dumped in some of the coffee grounds.

“Huh,” Lance huffed as he watched Keith pick up the kettle to carefully pour hot water over the grounds. “Guess that explains why I couldn’t find the coffee maker.”

Keith shrugged but at least threw out some words this time. “Drip burns it.”

“You never complained before.” Lance tried not to frown as he watched Keith make pour over coffee like a pro.

Keith didn’t even look up as he just shrugged again. “Never had good coffee before.”

Lance lost his fight against the frown then looked away. He had to remind himself this was Keith. He wasn’t trying to be rude. He just was. It had been too long since they hung out. Lance wasn’t used to it anymore. And living out here, isolated in the sticks with no one but the robot gremlin for company, probably hadn’t helped Keith’s social skills. They both needed to get out more. Talk to people.

“So. Yeah,” Lance made another try at conversation. “Didn’t mean to wake you. Twins usually throw a fit right before sunrise. Guess I’ve just gotten used to fixing breakfast at the crack of dawn. Can you believe it? Me. A morning person?” He huffed a weak laugh watching Keith hopefully.

Keith just frowned slightly then shrugged yet again, still not looking up from his pouring. “Do what you have to.”

“Yeah,” Lance furrowed his brow and watched the water soak through the coffee. “So, I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. Figured I’d make breakfast. Cleaned up a bit first.” He waved a hand at the tidy counters.

“Hm,” Keith grunted and at least spared a glance at the work then nodded. “Kitchen does look slightly less ransacked now.”

“You’re welcome,” Lance huffed a little laugh then shook his head and turned back to the counter. Keith wasn’t going to talk. It was stupid of him to expect something he barely did when they were close. Lance wasn’t even sure they were friends anymore. He frowned for that thought. It had been tense after the breakup but mutual friends kept them from just never seeing each other again. He was pretty sure Hunk and Shiro conspired to make sure of that and after the first year Lance had thought they were good again. They’d both moved on and it wasn’t even awkward. The distance was a bit daunting when Keith moved to Texas but Lance’s job kept him traveling anyway so it didn’t really matter. Things were fine. They were friends. Then Nyma came along.

Lance shook his head again and opened the fridge to keep his mind off that. Just finish cooking breakfast and see where it goes. He sighed as he pulled the cardboard carton of eggs out and closed the door. Keith was working on a second pour over, into a dark red cup this time. Lance watched him a moment, wishing he would say something but knowing he wouldn’t. So Lance turned his attention to the eggs.

“Eh,” he cringed at the sight of them when he opened the carton. “I think your eggs might have gone bad or something. They’re kinda. . . green-ish?” 

Keith did look up for that but it was just a quick glance then shrugged, “It’s fine,” and went back to pouring.

“Uuh. . .” Lance stared, trying to comprehend that lack of reaction. “Did you guys get an early start on Easter or something?”

“They’re yard eggs.”

“Yard eggs?”

“We have chickens.”

“Oh. And they lay greenish-blueish eggs?”

“They’re Ameraucanas.” Keith answered with a slight nod then added, “It’s a type of chicken.”

“Ah. . . yeah. Neat.” Lance frowned at the unexpected answer then asked for peace of mind, “Why?”

Keith just shrugged, “Katie likes the colors.”

“Huh. . . so do they taste any different?”

“Not really.”

“Ah,” Lance grunted but ran out of things to say on that topic so just turned back to the stove and dropped some butter in a pan with the veggies he’d cut before having a gun pointed at him. Keith continued to skillfully pour hot water over a coffee filter, making a third cup. Green this time.

“So is Pidge gonna get up soon?” Lance asked of the third cup.

Keith shook his head, “She likes it cold.” And the silence stretched as Lance cooked. Keith finished that cup then put it in the fridge. Lance smiled hopefully as Keith held out the white cup to him but once Lance took it Keith turned away and walked out. Left Lance to finish cooking alone. 

Keith knew Lance wanted to talk. He wasn’t stupid or even insensitive. He just didn’t know what to say. It had been too long and was much too early for this sort of thing. He’d not even had his coffee yet. Pidge knew not to expect coherent sentences out of him before coffee. Of course she was even worse. But still. Lance should remember that. Maybe if he’d taken the time to learn it in the first place. But Lance had never been good at understanding things that didn’t fit his way of thinking. Keith needed space before he got mean.

So he took his coffee out to the front porch and watched the sun rise through the trees. All three cats rushed the door to be let out and the dog waited for Keith to go first but did expect to follow after. Keith just left the door open behind him, let the house air out. It was nice weather. A little crisp but not really cold. Not currently raining. Spring was coming. The grass had never completely lost its green but the winter did dull it a bit. New green was sprouting to replace it now. In a few weeks the carolina jasmine and wisteria would be blooming. They needed to get a start on planting soon if they wanted a garden. Pidge would have to help him reset her overly complex watering system again. He couldn’t help a wry smile at the prospect of watching her get tangled in the hoses again and just let his mind wander a while as he sipped at his coffee.

“He never did grow into his feet,” Lance’s voice pulled Keith out of his head. He arched a brow and Lance smiled then picked up the fluffy black cat that had been rubbing a figure eight around his legs. The cat flopped over limp, like a ragdoll, and Lace huffed a little laugh then shook a disproportionately large paw at Keith. Toothless had been an unfortunate looking kitten, all scruff and giant paws when Lance first brought him home. Hunk had said he was going to get huge by the size of those feet but, well. He weighed all of seven pounds.

“Yeah,” Keith nodded with a little shrug and dropped his eyes back to his coffee. Lance frowned as more awkward silence passed between them broken only by the rhythmic thump of the dog’s tail as she stared at the two humans that might pet her. Keith obliged if for no other reason than to distract from the tension.

“So. Uh,” Lance took a different tactic and just spoke, “Food’s ready.”

“Mm.” Keith nodded but didn’t move to go inside. “I’ll eat it in a bit.”

Lance frowned and hesitated a moment before pointing out, “It’ll get cold.”

“I don’t eat before chores.” Keith didn’t mean to snap but kind of did.

Lance just stared with a tight expression and Keith frowned then turned away. He set his empty cup on the windowsill then walked out into the yard, toward the barn-like structure by the garden. Lance hesitated a moment, glancing back toward the food on the table then huffed a frustrated sound and followed after him. Keith tensed a bit for the company but didn’t stop.

“So. . . what chores you gotta do?” Lance asked as Keith pulled open the garden gate and lead him inside.

“Take care of stuff,” was Keith’s simple answer as he paused to pull a few weeds from the unplanted garden beds they passed and toss them onto the compost before ducking into the greenhouse.

Lance hesitated a moment to follow him into the plastic tent-like structure but he did. “Huh. This is some hydroponics stuff.” He poked at a hanging basket of herbs and wandered over to get a better look at the stacked shelf of seedlings, each little paper cup marked with a date and name. 

“Katie likes fresh vegetables,” Keith explained as he turned on the watering system and started checking their gauges while Lance matched names to little green leaves. They all looked pretty much the same at that size.

“You do a lot of things cuz Pidge likes them,” Lance rambled idly to keep the silence from settling in again.

Keith frowned then reached into a tool shelf and clicked on the antique radio nestled between bags of fertilizer. It crackled to life and a few twangy guitar chords played as a man sang. 

“ _Nothin lasts forever but I’d’ve sworn you’d stay. Ain’t it funny how the good things in life seem to fade away._ ”

Lance frowned. Keith turned back to his work. The voice on the radio continued to sing.

“ _But we were carryin’ that heavy load till one of us got tired of liftin’. We were drivin’ down a dead end road in a car too far gone for fixin’._ ”

Keith knew it was rude but he really did not want to get into that. Not with Lance. Pidge was good to him in ways that Lance would never understand. She was worth the work. Not that she demanded it, or even asked. Keith just liked doing things for her. So he trimmed up a few of the basil plants that were getting unruly, pulled a few sprigs of cilantro, and turned all three trays of seedlings that had started to lean toward the light. Then he opened the tub of chicken feed and scooped up a serving, took that through the wire door into the coop.

Lance lingered in the greenhouse, not sure what to do so he just watched Keith and listened to the song. 

“ _I called you my brother but you were closer than my kin and it kills me knowin’ you may never pass my way again._ ”

That hit a little close to home so Lance tried turning the radio’s knobs to find another station but all he got was static. This really was the middle of nowhere. He shook his head and turned it back to what he could only assume was some sort of country station. 

“ _But we lost track of time and the dark hair of our youth started to whiten. I watched my father’s face become mine and the cruel hands of truth started to tighten._ ”

The song continued to taunt him as Keith cleaned the chicken coop then came back out to hand Lance a little box of fresh eggs on his way to dump a bucket of muck onto the compost. Lance frowned at the strangely colored eggs and leaned against the tool shelf to watch Keith turn the compost pile with a pitchfork then spray it down.

“ _I remember back before that pendulum had swung. Back before we said the things that couldn’t be undone. I remember back when we were wild and we were young._ ”

It was almost hard to watch how comfortable Keith was with the work. With the routine. All this. Lance was used to seeing Keith struggle. As long as he’d known him the only things Keith had ever really been good at were fighting and piloting. It stung a little how much better Keith was doing without him. With her. It was hard not to be jealous. Not that they didn’t have their good times too. At least Lance thought they had. He thought Keith was happy at least for some of it.

“ _But I hope that every now and then you look back fondly on the days when we were younger men._ ”

Lance forced a smile when Keith came back to turn off the water and the radio. “All done?”

“Mm,” Keith nodded at the egg box Lance was still holding, “Put those in the fridge. I need a shower.” Then he turned away and walked back to the house.

Lance followed slowly after. He felt very out of place and had to remind himself again that Keith wasn’t trying to be rude. He just didn’t know any better. So Lance put the eggs away then lingered awkwardly waiting for Keith to come back. He got bored quickly and considered taking his own shower. There was a second bathroom and he desperately needed one. So he wandered into the guest room, looked around to pass the time. He nearly sat on the bed to watch the fish in an aquarium near it but thought better of that so sat on the chair by the desk instead. The fish were amusing for a little while, especially when he noticed the big blue crawfish crawling along the bottom, but that only lasted so long. He was about to get over the awkwardness and take a shower when something caught his eye. 

There was a photo frame on the desk by the computer monitor. Lance didn’t think much of it at first but neither Keith nor Pidge are really photo people and the dogtags draped over the frame made Lance remember that. He leaned in closer to see five faces staring back, familiar smiles. It was the old Army Air crew. Shiro stood tall and center frame with both arms whole, one draped over Keith’s shoulder, the other holding a flight helmet against his hip. Keith was at his side with his arms crossed, looking salty for having his picture taken (you’d think the boy was afraid it would steal his soul). Pidge was perched on the Black Hawk behind them, grinning with those ridiculous com spec headphones on her neck. Hunk leaned against the chopper, warm smile on his lips with grease on his nose. Lance was hanging off the big gun throwing a peace sign at the camera. He remembered when it was taken. Allura had insisted on having something to keep them (Shiro) close before she went back to England. It was just a few weeks before Fallujah. Before Shiro lost his arm and Keith got tired of flying support.

Lance frowned at the memory then more at the little purple ribbon set against the side of the frame. The purple heart Keith was given for nearly getting killed. Lance was pretty sure the rest of Keith’s ribbons were still on his uniform, probably hidden away in the closet. That boy was strangely sentimental sometimes. With nothing better to do, Lance got curious and checked the closet for it. Sure enough Keith’s flight suit and dress uniform were both there. Lance shook his head as he traced the Special Forces patch on the shoulder.

_What the hell Mullet? Not enough to fly, you gotta jump out and get shot too?_

_They took Shiro’s arm._

_Exactly. You don’t go on the ground cuz your pilot got maimed. Heck, you get out if you can._

_I’ve still got three years, Lance._

They should never have let Keith transfer. He was a great pilot and Shiro’s retirement opened a spot so Lance finally got to fly. He’d been looking forward to being pilots together. But Keith had other ideas. He always did. They spent four years doing circles never even seeing the same page. It was a wonder they lasted so long as they did. Looking back it wasn’t even that long. Four years is nothing. Especially when you cut out all the time they spent fighting. 

Lance heard the other bedroom door open before he could do the math on how long it had actually been. He frowned at the quiet sound of boots walking across the kitchen, a chair scrape, clink of silverware on a plate. Keith was done with his shower. There was still time for Lance to take one. He considered it. But walked out instead. Lance had to pause a moment when he saw Keith. He was in uniform. That always did things to Lance. Of course it also meant that Keith had to leave soon. Which also did things to Lance.

“Work soon?” he asked to break the silence as he took a seat across the table. Keith looked up from his plate of scrambled eggs with veggie chunks and restrained a flat look to just nod.

“Bout an hour.”

Lance nodded back then dropped his eyes to the table. He hesitated a moment but Keith wasn’t going to start talking so might as well eat. The food had gone cold. Silence hung heavy. Keith looked fine with it. Lance was dying inside. He picked at his plate trying to remember if it had always been this hard being with Keith. He was pretty sure it hadn’t. They used to have fun even. Keith had been up for anything back then. Lance huffed a tired laugh for the memory. Keith looked up with a questioning grunt. 

“You remember when Hunk threw up in the bulkhead?” Lance explained.

Keith blinked then broke a little smile. “Iverson said vomit isn’t an approved lubricant.”

“Yeah,” Lance grinned. “Then he made us all strip clean the chopper as some kind of really sick team building exercise.”

“So we put laxatives in his coffee.” Keith finished the story with a wry arch of his brow.

“Pidge put laxatives in his coffee,” Lance corrected. “You and I kept Shiro distracted.”

“It was a team effort.” Keith shrugged.

Lance nodded with a little laugh then settled back into a brief silence. “I wonder if he ever figured that out.”

“We’re still alive so probably not.” Keith went back to eating.

“Yeah. . .” Lance sighed and failed to find something else to say before the silence settled in again. Keith wasn’t bothered but Lance was drowning. He stared at his plate as if it would tell him what to do then jerked his head up when he heard the clatter of plastic game cases falling off the TV stand. The little grey cat looked offended that the things were in her way then jumped onto the bookshelf, knocking more down, before curling up to sleep on top of the record player. Lance arched a brow at the fact that Keith owned a record player then let his eyes drift to the scattered cases till they landed on a little purple cube behind the half toppled stack.

“Dude,” he breathed as recognition dawned. “Is that a Gamecube?”

“Uh.” Keith looked up and took a moment to notice the newly exposed game system. “Yeah.”

“Holy crow!” Lance pushed out of his chair to walk around the couch and get a closer look. “Is this the same one we had at Northwestern?”

Keith arched a wary brow but nodded, “Yeah.”

“Do you still have Smash Bros?” Lance asked like he was five, digging through the cases to find it.

“Course.” Keith grunted a reply and got up to pull the game off the shelf where it was collecting dust.

“Oh, I am so going to kick your ass.” Lance purred a challenge as he took the game from Keith and popped it into the system then held out the second controller.

Keith hesitated but only to glance at the clock before taking the bait with a coy grin. “Remember the last time you said that? I believe you ended up doing toilet duty for a month.”

Lance scoffed but that didn’t stop his smile, “Because you cheated.”

“I did not.” Keith raised both brows in offense as the game loaded.

“Hunk distracted me with his divine cooking. You took advantage.”

“Don’t blame me cuz you let yourself get distracted.”

“Yeah. Well. Hunk’s not here so I really am going to kick your ass this time.”

“Suuure,” Keith drawled with a smile as he picked his character and settled onto the couch for a well deserved beat down.


	7. Invasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“What the fuck is this?” Pidge nodded at the toddler in Keith's arms._
> 
> _“Language, Gringa.” Lance's mom was quick to chide her._
> 
> _“Who’s kid?” Pidge rephrased her question with a gruff sigh._
> 
> _“Mine,” Lance stepped up, passing the other twin to his mother so he could take the boy from Keith._
> 
> _“Huh,” Pidge watched the exchange, glancing between the identical toddlers and their father. “Cute. Must take after their mom,” she teased with a wry grin.  
> _
> 
> Hunk convinces Keith and Pidge to host the crew’s yearly Easter party at their place and they get a few surprise guests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is later than I'd like but I still have 3 hours left of the 1st where I am so it's not actually late.
> 
> Work and family stuff has also been kicking my ass lately. This chapter is particularly autobiographical on that front. >.>
> 
> It's also long. I think it's the longest one so far but I've not really been paying attention.
> 
> As always, please let me know if you like the way it's going. Or give me suggestions for things you'd like to see. I greatly appreciate ideas.

Keith stood up with a little grunt and leaned backwards a bit to stretch the kink out of his spine. It gave a nice pop and he smiled for it as he patted the dirt off his jeans. It was starting to get hot again. Not yet the boil of summer but spring had dotted the meadow in wildflowers and the afternoon sun threatened to burn Pidge’s skin if she dared venture out of the big oak’s shade, even with her oversized sun hat for extra protection. So she stood at the edge of the dappled light pointing to garden rows and little seedlings, telling Lance what to put where and probably making it more complicated than it needed to be. Just to fuck with him. Keith couldn’t help a smile when she glanced over her shoulder to toss a little wink at him after making Lance throw up his hands with a frustrated sound. She was beautiful under that floppy hat. Even in rolled up overalls she still held his attention. A perfect paradox of tiny but fierce. Savage but sweet. Ordered but still wild. She never ceased to amaze him. 

“Oh, come on. Hello~” Lance huffed loud enough to get through Keith’s thoughts this time. “Are you gonna help me with this row or just stand there ogling the Pigeon all day?”

Keith blinked a few times to come back to reality then shot Lance a slightly pouty glare. “I’m not ogling.”

“Yeah.” Lance drawled out the word then swiveled his head. “I know ogling when I see it. And that, my good sir. Is ogling.”

“Oh, you’re an expert now?” Keith arched a brow. “Cuz I’m pretty sure you think half the women you meet are checking you out and I’m sorry to inform you - but they’re not.”

Lance’s eyes went wide and he reeled back with a dramatic gasp, slapping a hand to his chest as if hit. “You wound me.” Keith just rolled his eyes.

“Statistically speaking-" Pidge started to throw in some numbers but Lance cut her off. 

"Don't you gang up on me with your maths. It's bad enough he always takes your side."

"He does not always take my side.” Pidge put her hands on her hips with a huff for the notion. Then she quirked an eyebrow at Keith and nearly challenged. “Am I right, babe.” It wasn’t really a question. 

Keith just gave her a soft smile and little nod as he gently pulled the shoulder strap of her overalls back up then murmured a quiet, "Always." 

Lance gagged. “You two are disgusting. And why am I the one doing all the work here?” He threw up his hands at the half planted garden around them. 

“Keith did two rows.” Pidge waved at the neat rows of planted corn Keith had put in while she toyed with Lance. “And you’ve been squatting on our couch for almost a month. You owe us a rent’s worth of labor. Consider it indentured servitude.” 

“Uuh. . .” Lance raised his brows in near offense. “You mean slavery?” 

“Course not. That’s illegal.” The Pidge waved him off with a huff then leveled a pointed stare. “If you don’t like the work we offer you could always just get a real job. Like an adult.”

Lance blinked, missed a beat, then nearly stomped a foot. “I’ve been looking for gigs!”

“That’s not a real job.” Pidge deadpanned.

Lance gasped, “Tell that to Beyoncé.”

“Are you Beyoncé?” Pidge put her hands on her hips again for the challenge and Lance turned a questioning stare on Keith but his phone rang as if to save him from that trap. Lance huffed a frustrated sound and Pidge just grinned as Keith answered the call with a grunt that might be considered a form of greeting in some cultures. 

“Hey, Keith.” Hunk’s smiling voice replied after just a brief pause. “You actually answered this time. Getting better, Buddy.” He was used to Keith’s lack of phone etiquette by now so didn’t wait for a response to that either. “You on your day off?”

“Yeah," Keith just grunted again and didn't let the nearly condescending comments bother him. Hunk didn’t mean anything by it, he just couldn't help saying what was on his mind.

“Cool.” Hunk probably nodded at the phone but at least Keith knew he wouldn’t take long to spill whatever reason he was calling for. People don’t call Keith just to talk. “So, you know that Easter thing we do every year with the kids?” There it was. Keith couldn’t help feel a little wary for the question though.

“Yeah?” he made it a question in return.

“Yeah. Well.” Hunk paused a moment as if bracing. “We can’t do it at Shiro’s place this year.”

There was a brief pause while Keith considered that then drawled, “Okay. And?”

“Well.” Hunk hesitated awkwardly. Keith knew what he was doing but wasn’t about to make the offer. So Hunk had to ask. “We were thinking maybe we could do it at your place. You know. I mean, you’ve got the space.”

Keith frowned. He’d been afraid of that. He didn’t answer and glanced over to where Pidge was helping Lance put seedlings into the ground now. Hunk took his lack of response as invitation for reasons to why he should agree.

“You know Shiro’s remodeling so we can’t do it there and you’re the only other one with a yard.”

“We have land, Hunk.” Keith corrected with a flat tone. “That’s not the same thing as a yard.”

“Keith. I have a condo. Matt has an apartment. Coran’s penthouse is on the 27th floor.” Hunk added more reasons. “And Pidge got us banned from Chuck E Cheese’s.”

Keith cringed a little for the reminder then tried, “There’s a Dave and Buster-” But Hunk cut him off.

“Keith. Do you really want to go there with the kids? On Easter?” Hunk made a good point.

Keith still didn’t think it was a good idea. “We don’t have a kid fence, Hunk. We’ve got two acres wrapped in barbed wire.”

“You’ve got that fence around the back with the roses.” Hunk tried to counter but Keith corrected him.

“You mean the roses that have thorns worse than the barbed wire?”

“Come on, man,” Hunk nearly whined. “You’ve got two acres. We’ll just keep an eye on them. What’s the worst that could happen?” He paused just briefly then added, “Don’t answer that.”

“Two acres and half of it’s forest. Backed up on about twenty thousand acres of national forest.” Keith frowned at the woods on either side of him then answered the question anyway. “There’s a ten foot drop into the creek. And we have honey locust trees, Hunk. They’ve got thorns the size of my hand. With extra spikes. Not to mention the poison ivy, thorn bushes, fire ants, snakes, spiders, scorpions, wasps, coyotes, skunks, raccoons. Bears.”

“We’ll keep them out of the woods,” Hunk nearly squeaked. “The kids can play in the, what did you call it, the meadow up front. It should be safe there. Right?”

“There’s still fire ants.” Keith deadpanned.

“Keith.” Hunk’s voice somehow carried a frown. “You know this means a lot to Shiro.” 

It was true. Easter was one of the few kid friendly holidays that didn’t get booked for big parties. So it was one that Shiro and Hunk didn’t have to work. Keith’s schedule wasn’t reliant on that sort of thing and he’d never cared much about holidays so it was easy for him to forget but this did mean a lot to Shiro. They’d not skipped a year in over a decade. Keith didn’t want to be reason to break their tradition but he still did not think doing it at his house was a good idea.

“Our place isn’t kid safe, Hunk. And I don’t mean cleaners under the cabinet. I’ve got guns. And Pidge has her science stuff. We have a blade collection.”

Hunk sighed and Keith could hear him drag a hand over his face in frustration. “I’ll come over early to help you clean. Ok?”

“I’m not. . ." Keith trailed off to give a glance over his shoulder at Pidge who was standing behind Lance pointing at pots now. His secret weapon. "Just a sec-” Keith put a hand over the phone then called to Pidge. “Katie. Give me a reason we can’t have people over for Easter.”

Pidge arched a brow but before she could answer Lance stuck his nose in it. “Aren’t you going to Shiro’s thing?” 

Keith grit his jaw then lifted both brows at Pidge. She took a moment but caught on then shook her head. “Have them over here? At our house? For The Easter thing? With the kids?” Her voice rose with each question nearly to a squeak.

“Wait. Is that Shiro?” Lance pointed at the phone and got up to walk closer. Pidge just rolled her eyes at him.

“Hunk,” Keith corrected with a little shake of his head. “But, yes. He’s asking if we can do The Easter thing here.”

“Oh man." Lance lit up then reached for the phone, "Lemme talk to him." But Keith took a step back.

“No. You’ll agree to it,” he put Pidge between them and just narrowed his eyes at Lance’s dramatic gasp then looked at the girl again. “I need a reason not to.”

“It’s dangerous?” she offered but Keith shook his head. 

“Tried that.”

“Oh come on,” Lance cut in. “Why are you trying to get out of it? This could be awesome! You’ve got all this great space. We could put up a few pavilions. Maybe string some lights. Hunk could bring the big barbeque pit. You’ve got a decent sound system. Heck, we could even have a fire out here.”

“Children, Lance." Pidge gave him a flat look. "Toddlers.”

“Ok, so we do a lot of cleaning before they get here and don't light the fire till they’re all tuckered out.” Lance didn't get it. Pidge and Keith both gave him a flat look for that but he was nothing if not persistent. “It’ll be fun. When’s the last time you two did something fun?”

Keith crossed his arms with a glare then huffed, “I enjoyed kicking your ass at Soul Calibur last night.”

Lance balked briefly then waved it off. “Not video game fun. Get out and do things fun.”

“We do things." Pidge stepped up with a wave at the rows around them. "We’re planting a garden right now. That’s a thing. And we’re doing it.”

“Social things. Cheese you two are hopeless. Gimme that,” Lance snatched the phone. Keith almost lunged to get it back but Pidge stopped him then leveled a serious look on Lance before he managed to bring the phone up to his ear.

“You agree to this and your ass is mine. You understand? I work you to the bone and you don't complain. No complaining.”

Lance blinked for the threat and hesitated a moment then shrugged. “Sure if that’s what it takes.”

“No. I don't think you understand. You do everything I say and you don't bitch about it. You don't even get to ask questions." She paused briefly then added, "And if they break anything you’re responsible for it.”

“They’re just kids, Pidgey. It’ll be fine.” Lance waved off her concern. 

“It’s on you if it isn’t.” Pidge shrugged the whole thing off and turned back to the gardening.

“Ok, Ok. I’m responsible.” Lance accepted that without really considering the details. Keith thought about pointing out that she'd not specified how long this arrangement would last. Or how Lance would be held responsible. Or what 'work you to the bone' even means. He started to warn Lance but a quick look from Pidge shut him up. She wanted this. Keith still wasn't sold on the idea of having small children at the house but it had been years since Lance got to see any of them and no one else seemed to be concerned about the fact that he could name at least a hundred ways the kids could get seriously hurt just off the top of his head. Maybe he was just being paranoid? He still had a few stipulations.

“They're not allowed in the garage. Or the barn. Or the guest room. And I’m not dying any eggs.”

* * *

Keith was dying eggs. 

He'd spent the two weeks leading up to Easter clearing the house and property of everything that might be dangerous. Which was a lot. On the upside the place was cleaner than it had been since they bought it. And they'd found a rusty old hand plow half buried by the well house that fetched a decent price at an antique shop. Pidge said the box of strange glass knobby cone things were worth more but he doubted it. Of course she was right. And Keith owed her ice cream for it.

At least Lance had been helpful with the cleaning. And he only complained a little bit. Pidge did work him hard but Lance had always been good for that once he got started. It was the getting started that was the hard part. Pidge's airhorn was a good motivator though and they'd gotten all the scrap metal dug out of the yard, poison ivy cleared from the treeline, thorn bushes trimmed, guns locked safely away in their cabinet, put all the sharp things in boxes and stowed them with the chemicals, science experiments, electronics, laboratory glass, explosives, and Legos in the guest room. Then Pidge installed a mag lock on the door, just to be safe. Once that was done she put Lance to work scrubbing the tile with a toothbrush. Because he'd agreed to unspecified labor. The place was nearly spotless by the time Hunk showed up. 

The big guy was impressed. He'd expected to be helping them put away the plutonium but was able to let his girls out of the car after just a quick inspection. They piled out and took one wide eyed look at the towering forest on all sides then hung off Shay's skirt as she took them into the house with murmured promises of it being perfectly safe. Keith decided it was probably best not to correct her on that. He wasn't really worried about Hunk's girls. They had their father's sense of caution to keep them safe.

Not clean though. The little one had somehow doused herself in pink dye while Keith looked away for five seconds to help her sister get an egg out of the blue dye cup. Lance came over to help him after that. He'd not really been helping Pidge and Hunk get the big grill set up anyway and they should never have left Keith alone with the kids. Shay hadn't considered his lack of experience and taken the chance of having a defacto babysitter to go take a nap in the guestroom (they flipped the mattress for her). She had the right idea. Keith was already tired just after cleaning up that one mess. It was still early.

Lance was good with the girls though. He'd been an uncle since he was six so had grown up around children. Despite having not seen them in years he knew what was too much for the girls to handle and how to gently correct them or just provide a distraction when they needed one. Keith didn't know how he did it. Of course Lance was a father now. That was a wild thought. It was easy to forget. Keith still thought of Lance as that same rockstar playboy from when they were together. Not exactly the kind you don't take home to mamma (that was Keith) but not really Dad material either. It was hard for Keith to wrap his head around Lance having children. Even though he knew Lance had spoken to them on video calls almost every night since he'd showed up on their porch. They just didn't talk about it. Keith knew Lance missed his boys. Like he'd missed his family in the war. He must have a good reason not to go back.

The girls were fighting over what was left of the pink dye when the dog announced the arrival of a new car. The youngest girl ducked under the table for the sound but at least that ended the argument. Keith left reassuring the children up to Lance and went out to greet Shiro's minivan.

It was parked at a bit of an odd angle in the circle drive and Shiro was already out standing in front of the open side door telling the kids to be patient in his well practiced Dad voice as Allura fussed with car seat straps beside him. Their oldest was still in the front seat staring at her phone like she might just stay there all day but their boy was bouncing to be let loose. Matt slipped out around Allura and spared Keith a wry grin with a lazy wave before he walked around to pull diaper bags and luggage out from the back of the minivan. It looked like they were equipped for an occupation but Keith had learned that kids just come with a lot of baggage. He quirked a little smile for the double meaning of that thought then stepped up to help but stopped short. 

"Ay~ _Fosforo_!" a plump, caramel skinned older woman with chocolate eyes and a wicked grin held up a toddler toward Keith. "Take the _niño_ ," she instructed as if that was perfectly acceptable. Keith just blinked. It had been years but he would recognize Lance's mother any day. Maria McClain made an impression.

"He's not going to bite," Shiro nudged Keith gently with a nod toward the child. It stared up at them with wide ocean blue eyes. 

"Oho, Don’t lie to the boy, _Hermosa_.” The woman chided with a laugh then gave Keith a little wink. “They're teething," she nearly purred, still holding the toddler out. Keith just stood there with a forced smile, failing to be polite. The woman’s grin turned a little sly. “Not afraid of a toddler, are you _mi chiquillo_?”

Keith huffed a tight laugh for that but rose to the obvious challenge and awkwardly took the boy. Shiro hid a wry grin as the kid clung to Keith's shirt like his life depended on it. Keith stepped back from the van before he got handed anything else to carry. This was ok. The kid wasn't screaming. Just don't drop it.

“Ay, that is a sight,” the woman half sighed as she watched Keith with the child. He ignored her and walked a few more paces away as Shiro helped her climb out of the van. Lance was going to be ecstatic about this at least. He’d just have to make sure Pidge didn’t start another fist fight. Or let Maria start one. He still wasn’t sure who’s fault that had been. There was a lot of stupid at Lance’s second wedding. The bride not least of all.

“Mamma!” Lance’s voice carried from the porch and Keith could hear the smile on it. He turned to catch the brilliant grin as it streaked past to latch onto the woman just out of the van. Maria laughed a matronly sound and wrapped herself around her youngest son. Keith could only watch a few moments as the mother rambled off a long string of Spanish that loosely translated to her boy not eating enough before he had to turn away. He’d never felt comfortable seeing that. It was too intimate. Too personal. He felt like an imposter for being there.

The child on Keith’s shoulder burbled a little sound and reached toward Lance though he was busy now holding an identical toddler over his head and spinning in a little circle to make the child squeal. It was a piercing sound. Keith bounced the one in his arms lightly to distract him and the boy stared up with an owlish expression. He had Lance’s eyes. The skin and hair were too light but then Nyma was pale and blonde. The twins. Maria had brought Lance’s children down from New York. Without asking. Keith grit his jaw then forced a smile for the kid. It wasn’t his fault his family were a bunch of presumptuous _hijos de perra_.

“She was at the airport when Shiro went to collect Matt,” Allura’s voice cut through Keith’s thoughts. “She wanted it to be a surprise.”

Keith gave her a dead look then softened it for the little girl in her arms and just grumbled, “Mission accomplished.”

Allura stifled a smile then tutted him gently, “Be nice. We’ll get her a hotel if you simply can’t stand her.”

Keith blinked for that. He’d not even thought about the woman staying, let alone with toddlers. He tried not to frown at the boy in his arms as he asked a bit tightly, “How long is she staying?”

“She wasn’t quite specific about that.” Allura paused to offer a sweet smile as if that would make up for it then added, “Coran will be by soon with the caravan. He’s agreed to leave it here on loan if you like. Give her a space away from the main house.”

Oh, Pidge is going to love this. _Hijos de perra_. Keith just flashed Allura a toothy expression that might be mistaken for a smile then cringed when he heard Pidge’s voice from the porch.

“Dorkasaurus!” She shouted into the crowd and Matt dropped the bags he’d been trying to balance then trotted toward the house.

“Sisterbot!” He hollered back and the two of them collided into giggling fits and nuggie fights. Shiro’s boy trailed after and pounced the pile but got tag teamed for it. Hunk’s girls watched wide eyed on the porch with their father. The older one looked like she might join in if she were told it was alright. The younger hid behind her sister’s skirt. Matt extracted himself from the pile and tackled the both of them once he noticed their staring. Keith cringed for the younger one’s screech but it trailed off into giggles. Matt was good with kids too. He grew up with a little sister and practically lived with Shiro so had plenty of practice.

“What the fuck is this?” Pidge’s voice called Keith out of his thoughts again. He just blinked at her then followed her eyes to the weight in his arms.

“Uh,” Keith wasn’t really sure how to handle that but Maria saved him from it.

“Language, _Gringa_.” Or maybe she just gave him something else to worry about.

Pidge puffed up so Keith put himself between them. Usually that wouldn’t do much good but he hoped the toddler would at least give her pause. It did. Pidge’s eye twitched as the child burbled at her then she stepped down with a huff. Keith relaxed slightly.

“Who’s kid?” Pidge rephrased her question with a gruff sigh.

“Mine,” Lance stepped up, passing the other one to his mother so he could take the boy from Keith. It had the added benefit of occupying the woman’s hands to prevent physical provocation. 

“Huh,” Pidge watched the exchange, glancing between the identical toddlers and their father. “Cute. Must take after their mom,” she teased with a wry grin. 

“And where are yours, _Chaparra_?” Maria almost snapped. Keith flinched and there was a brief silence in which every adult who’s name was not McClain took in a sharp breath. Pidge started to seethe but Keith wrapped his arms around her with a soothing sound to hold her back.

“None?” The older woman pushed. “Well, you have time. You’re still young. Or. Well. For a few more years at least.”

Keith squeezed Pidge slightly tighter but she pulled away, though not completely out of his hold, and glared up at the woman with a spiteful grin to deliver a sneer. “Might should get married first.”

“ _Dios mio_ ,” the older woman reeled back, putting a hand to her chest in exactly the same way Lance did it. “You are still not married?” She gasped after an appropriate paused then shook her head with a tut. “Oh. What is the world coming to? What are you waiting for?”

“People to stop asking.” Keith answered before Pidge could say something worse.

Maria paused with a blink then smiled at him. “Oh. There is my _mi Fosforo_.” She nearly laughed, reaching up a hand to pat his cheek. Keith took it with a flat look but that didn’t stop her from talking. “¿ _Por qué te atas a esta mujer que no lo hará_ -”

“Mamma,” Lance cut her off before she could say too much. “She speaks Spanish.” 

“Oh?” Maria raised both brows dropping her eyes to meet Pidge’s glare with a cold look then huffed. “Good. Maybe she will make an honest man out of _mi cariño_.”

Keith pulled Pidge back in to keep her from doing anything dangerous with all the children around. Shiro started to step up but he was weighed down in kid bags and Hunk beat him to it.

“Uh, hey. Mrs McClain,” the big guy called as he trotted up from the porch. “It’s real nice to see you haven’t changed. But I need your help in the kitchen if that’s ok.”

“Ah. Garret.” Maria turned bodily away from Pidge and gave Hunk a bright smile. “How is your mother?”

“Doing fine, Mrs M.” Hunk answered with a little nod and scrubbed a hand through his hair before pointing back at the house. “I think the cobbler might be burning though.”

“Ay, _Gordito_. Why didn’t you say anything?” Maria glanced around for someone to give the toddler to and Matt stepped up quickly for the hand off. She gave over the child with a muttered, “ _Gracias_ ,” then rushed toward the house. Hunk spared the others a weak smile and Lance mouthed a quick ‘thank you’ before he followed after her.

They all waited for the door to close before breathing a collective sigh of relief.

“Man. That got tense,” Matt stated the obvious but no one agreed out loud. Just kind of awkwardly didn’t deny it. Then Pidge slipped out of Keith’s hold to stomp up to Lance with a glare. 

“Your mom is a bitch.”

Lance blinked at the accusation then huffed a little, “Hey.”

“Nuh-uh.” Pidge stepped up stabbing a finger into his chest, despite the child on his shoulder. “She is a bitch. Your mom is a big fat bitch. The biggest bitch in the whole wide world.”

“She’s not like that to anyone else.” Lance stepped away from her and Pidge just eyed him for it. She wasn’t though. For some reason Pidge just brought out the worst in her. No one ever said as much but Keith had a feeling it had a lot to do with him. Which was probably why they all just sort of avoided the issue. Pidge grit her jaw, probably going through the same thoughts, then shook her head with a huff.

“She’s a stupid bitch, if there ever was a bitch. She’s a bitch to all the boys and girls.” Pidge started singing it but Shiro put down a bag to clap a hand over her mouth.

“I think the kids are a little young for South Park lyrics.” He gave her a warning look and waited for her to nod before letting go.

“Such a wet blanket,” she complained flopping against Keith for support as she pouted. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head to show that he still loved her, no matter how childish she might seem sometimes. She nuzzled her face into his chest for it. He knew she wasn’t just being a brat. Maria had hurt her and Pidge dealt with that by fighting back. But they wouldn’t let her. So she had to get it out somehow.

“Perhaps you two could help me hide eggs while the others take the children inside?” Allura stepped up to suggest a distraction. 

Keith gave her a soft smile for it then nudged Pige for a response. She hesitated but nodded against his shoulder after a moment so he looked back to Allura with a nod of his own.

“Brilliant,” she smiled back then gave Pidge’s shoulder a little pat with a softly spoken, “She doesn’t mean anything by it, dear.” Then turned to the others. “Well. You heard it. Children into the house,” Allura took charge like the professional event planner she was.

* * *

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Keith and Pidge helped Allura hide colorful plastic eggs around the property while the other adults cooked and kept the kids in check. Coran showed up with his big RV and they got it parked by the barn just before picnic tables were all set up and lunch served. Then it was utter chaos and all hands when the children were let loose for the hunt. Somehow no one got injured though a frog did make Hunk’s youngest scream like she’d been stabbed. Only a few things got broken. The playstation controller, a lawn chair, one of the garden sprinklers, and somehow a plastic plate. There were some close calls. Shiro’s boy took a tumble into the creek and nearly landed on his head when he jumped out of the hay loft. Hunk’s eldest almost dumped a pot of boiling water on her head trying to help in the kitchen. His youngest went through three sets of clothes and almost lost a finger to the rabbit before Keith put a blanket over the beast’s cage. Both of Lance’s boys went missing, first separately, then together and ended up on leashes for it. Even Shiro’s youngest managed to nearly choke on one of the alphabet magnets from the fridge. At least everyone helped to keep Maria and Pidge off each other’s throats but it was still a full day of high intensity stress. The cats watched the whole thing from a safe distance, perched on rafters, in trees, and from the roof. The dog had the best day ever getting petted by all the people and playing tag with the older kids. Shiro’s eldest was more with the cats and spent the whole time parked on the couch staring at her phone. She was graced with the gray cat’s affection for it. 

Things were winding down now. Most of the kids were passed out, down from sugar highs and over exertion. Shiro’s boy was getting his ass beat by Hunk’s eldest at Mario Kart and Allura was cleaning up egg confetti with Hunk and Shay. Lance was relaxing in Keith’s lawn chair with a cold compress over his eyes while his mother ildy sang a Spanish song under her breath in the hammock beside him. Shiro and Matt were taking a break, laying in the grass nearby.

Keith walked up to the little mob on his lawn and deposited a wriggling toddler into Lance’s lap.

“Hey there, Buddy.” Lance lifted the mask from his face to arch a brow at his boy then glanced down to the pair of leashes tied to his chair. One twin was still on the end of his but the other was slack and empty. “Got off the leash, huh?” He huffed a little laugh then patted the boy’s back before pulling his hand away with a disgusted frown for the grime that coated it. “Where’ve you been?” He tilted his head to Keith who gave him a flat look then pointed to the garage. At least that explained the motor oil that soaked the child’s onesie. “Huh.” Lance huffed at the small space under the garage door then gave his boy a wry grin. “Little Houdini,” he purred proudly and ruffled the kid’s hair. 

Keith’s eye twitched for that so he turned on a heel and walked out into the woods without a word. Just fucked right off into the forest.

Lance sat up and exchanged a worried look with his mother. They both knew Keith was antisocial but that was a little much, even for him. Lance started to get up and see what was wrong but Shiro put a hand on his shoulder to hold him down and shook his head. 

“Let him go. Keith just needs some space. He doesn’t do well around children for long.”

“What?” Lance furrowed his brow for that. “But he’s been great. The kids all love him. Even this one and he never likes strangers.” He patted the oily toddler’s back and the kid gave Shiro a leery stare as if to confirm it.

Shiro returned the boy’s stare with a warm smile then nodded. “Yes. Keith is good with children. But.” He paused a moment with a little glance toward Maria, as if considering whether or not to say this around her. It was just a brief hesitation before he rolled his shoulders in a slight shrug then explained. “Pidge can’t have any.”

Lance twitched and took a moment to catch on then sat up with a gasped, “What?” 

“Pidge can’t have children.” Shiro elaborated with a glance to Maria as she sat up too. “I don’t know the details but she can’t get pregnant.” 

“Ay, no.” Maria breathed, covering her mouth with both hands. “I taunted her about not having any.”

Shiro gave the woman a ‘yeah you did’ look but had the grace not to say anything. Lance frowned deeply and looked off to where Keith had wandered into the trees.

“That’s so not fair,” Lance muttered. “Keith would make such a great dad.”

“Yes,” Shiro nodded and let that hang a moment. It wasn’t something they talked about but he was sure it hurt both Keith and Pidge to see all their friends with children when they couldn’t have any of their own. Even Lance had some now. He felt bad for them but, “At least he gets to be an awesome uncle.” Shiro tried to focus on the positive. Lance gave him a weak smile for it. Then they all cringed at the screaming that suddenly broke out near the barn. A crash followed quickly with panicked clucking and Allura yelled from the garden.

“Shiro! Your son just let the chickens out!”

Matt choked back a laugh as Shiro heaved a sigh and pushed himself up with a muttered, “Why is he always _my_ son when he’s in trouble?”

Maria reached up to pat his arm as he passed and purred a wry, “Just you wait until your daughter starts dating.”

Matt laughed even harder at the look that put on Shiro’s face.

* * *

Keith chose to ignore the scream and crash and obvious signs that he should probably go help with whatever had just happened. But he was wholly too tired for that shit. So he kept walking. It was almost over. They would go home soon. He’d have his quiet back. Pidge would even make Lance clean the mess and fix whatever was broken. Keith just didn’t think about what was going to happen with Lance’s mom. One thing at a time. Right now Keith needed some quiet.

He climbed the rickety ladder into the deer blind to find some then blinked at the pile of blankets he saw there. For a moment he thought he’d left them out all season. But then they moved. Pidge blinked up from the screen of her tablet and stared at him with a shell shocked expression. He returned it with one of his own then climbed the rest of the way up to crawl into the blankets with her. 

She set aside her glasses and her screen then reached for him as he settled in beside her. He wrapped strong arms around her and she tangled thin fingers in his hair. They pressed their foreheads together a moment then drug their faces down to rub cheeks in a greeting learned from cats. Pidge breathed a sigh of relief for the comfort then smiled as they pulled away just enough to brush noses. It was good. This. Holding her. Being held. Just the weight of her arms around his neck helped to ground him. Calm him down. The rest of the world didn't matter as much. So long as he had this. It would be ok.

They stayed like that a few long moments. Slowly relaxing in each others arms. Then Keith breathed a heavy sigh that trailed off into a slight laugh. Pidge blinked at him and pulled away just enough to see his whole face then huffed a brief laugh too. They smiled at each other like disaster survivors after the storm has passed. 

Then they locked eyes and said at the same time, “Let’s never have kids.”

There was a beat of silence for the synchronization then they both broke down laughing. They pulled each other close again and neither really knew which kissed the other first but it didn’t matter. They made out between giggles and savored each touch of lips. It was slow, patient and calm in a way younger couples couldn't be. It was familiar and intimate without really being sexual. They were both too tired for that. They just wanted to drink in each other's affection. Comfort. Love. 

Gradually it slowed to just laying curled up together and listening to each other breathe. Keith’s back was against the wall and Pidge was draped across him. She twirled fingers in the little curls his hair made at his neck and he idly tugged the laces of her combat boots, worn with a sundress of course. 

“You know,” Pidge mused at the wall once they’d both calmed down. “I’ve known Lance has kids for, what, two years now? Academically. But I never really believed it till today.”

Keith arched a brow but just grunted to acknowledge the words.

“I mean. He’s never acted like a dad. You know.” She went on when Keith didn’t stop her. “He’s always just been Lance. It didn’t seem to change him. But then. I guess we’ve not seen him _with_ the kids before. But man. He’s got that parent thing bad. Right?” She leaned up just a bit to look at Keith, expecting an answer.

He blinked at her and gave it some thought then just shrugged with a sorry look. Pidge huffed and shook her head.

“You know. Like when he’s with them that’s all there is. That’s all _he_ is. Just a dad. Like, not even a person anymore. It’s all so completely just about the kids.”

Keith furrowed his brow and considered a moment then shrugged again, “Was kinda busy tryin’ to keep them from getting killed.”

“Yeah. You would get it so bad if we had kids,” she flopped back down with a sigh. Keith tried not to let that bother him but he could see Pidge’s smile fading.

“It’s ok we don’t have them,” he tried to reassure her. She blinked up at him and he could see the doubt on her face. He gave her a moment then squeezed her slightly to get her to talk. She huffed a half sigh and looked away but did speak.

“I just feel like a terrible person. Like. Selfish. Cuz we don’t.”

“Katie.” He gently pulled her face back to meet her eyes. “You’re not selfish. You’re not a terrible person.” He paused briefly before adding the unspoken fears he knew were there. “You’re not a failure. Or any less of a woman.”

She snorted an undignified sound but at least smiled a little then huffed, “You have to say that. You're my husband.”

"Technically I'm not," He pointed out with a little shrug. She rolled her eyes then looked away with a heavy sigh. He pulled her face back. “Katie. I love you. I don’t need children. I don’t really even want them.”

She frowned then shook her head, “Is that really true or just something you’ve convinced yourself of for my sake? I don’t want you to wake up in ten, twenty years and resent-”

“I love you, Katie.” He cut her off. “But, really. Think about who I am.”

“That’s just it, Keith. You convince yoursel-”

“Katie,” he stopped her again. “I do not like children. I tolerate them. I try to be nice to them. But they stress me out. They’re too fragile. And unpredictable. And have no sense of self preservation. I’m pretty sure I would kill a child if I got left alone with it for too long.”

“You wouldn’t kill a kid,” Pidge rolled her eyes then flashed a slightly wry grin. “You’d just look away for five seconds and it would drink antifreeze.”

“Yeah. That.” Keith deadpanned with a flat look. Truth was he really didn’t have a problem with children, not really. They did stress him out. He was afraid of accidentally hurting them. He knew almost nothing about what a parent should do. His own had been terrible examples and he really was afraid of fucking up a human being like they did to him. But he knew that if they did have children they wouldn’t be alone. Shiro, Allura, Hunk, Shay, Matt, Coran, even Lance would help out. They’d learn. They’d make it work. If they wanted to. If they really wanted it they would have adopted a child by now. Truth is, they didn’t want it. 

That was just a hard thing to explain. To justify. It seems selfish. Maybe it is. But Keith knew first hand what being an unwanted child is like. How much worse that is than being a little selfish and just not having kids in the first place. He knew he wouldn’t make all the mistakes his parents did but why make that one? 

Keith shook his head with a sigh then pulled Pidge’s face back to look at him. “Point is. We shouldn’t have kids just because that’s what society expects us to do. We have to want it first. And we don’t. And that’s ok.” He paused to smile at her till she huffed a weak laugh and nodded. Then his smile turned a bit wry and he added. “It’s probably a good thing. You’re not exactly mother of the year material either.”

Pidge blinked for that but Keith’s smile told her it was a joke so she threw up her hands with a huff. “They make no goddamn sense!” Her voice squeaked with passion and she talked with her hands through a frantic rant. “I mean, I told those girls that rabbit would bite them but it’s like they thought I was joking. And how did Alfie even get into the barn? We put a lock on it, right? Did he pick the lock? Is that a thing eight year olds do now? Pick locks? Don’t even get me started on those twins. I’m pretty sure they don’t know the meaning of the word discipline. Need to spend some time with Shiro those two do. I mean, I know they’re toddlers. But if you pick them up every time they cry how are they gonna learn that’s not how you get things? You’d think Maria would know better but then I guess she is Lance’s mother. That explains a lot.”

Keith couldn’t help but give the girl a soft smile for her frustrations then brushed a hand through her hair to get her attention. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

She blinked then shook her head with a sigh. “Not your fault. I’ll take it out of Lance later.”

Keith huffed a little laugh then nodded. “I’ll hold him down for you.” 

“Yeah. He owes us both for this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to throw this out when I did Shiro’s birthday party but forgot so now it’s probably obvious that I haven’t named most of the kids. >.<
> 
> I am awful at names. Which is why I want y’all to name them!
> 
> Just give me some names in the comments. Shiro's got two girls, Hunk's got two girls, and Lance has twin boys that need names.


	8. Never Gonna Give You Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Keith pulled his girl close, carding fingers through her hair as he leaned in to tell her confidently, “I love you, Katie.”  
> _ _  
> She forced a smile for his confidence then shrugged, “I don’t know why.”  
> _ _  
> “Should I count the ways?” he nearly teased as he reached up to brush the hair out of her eyes. She blinked for it then smiled a bit stronger.  
> _ _  
> “All ten of them.”  
> _ _  
> “More like two hundred and fifty seven.”  
> _  
>  Keith has coffee with Matt then does a beautiful job of cheering Pidge up when she needs some comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the start of Kidgeweek happened to line up with my release schedule I just kind of threw as many of the prompts into this chapter as I could reasonably fit. Some are more subtle than others.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented, left kudos, likes, reblogs and everything! But especially to those of you who gave me names. I really appreciate all the suggestions. I'm gonna leave it open a bit longer for more so I can spread the love and only use one or two from each of ya but I really like all the ones y'all came up with. It's going to be hard to choose.
> 
> Anyone else want to name one of the Paladins' kids? I need names for: Shiro and Allura's 2 girls, Hunk and Shay's 2 girls, Lance's twin boys.

There is a coffee bar nestled in the posh, trendy shops of midtown Houston. The walls outside are a rustic brick covered in ivy and bougainvillea hedged by a wrought iron picket fence. The dark patio furniture sports black umbrellas and the path leading to the door is dotted with carpet moss growing between flagstones. Inside are dark wood panel walls, heavy leather furniture, and a mahogany bar that looks like it came right out of an old western - brass rail and all. Well worn board games and stacks of old books litter the low tables interspersed between loveseats and armchairs. The dull glass eyes of a nine point buck stare in judgement of blue haired hipsters that linger by the antique cash register. All in all it’s not a terrible place so far as coffee shops go. The chairs are comfortable. The music is classical. No one’s smoking cloves in the corner. And they make coffee for people who actually like coffee, not just the idea of it.

Of course Keith didn’t much care about any of that. So long as he was left alone to read his book and drink his americano in peace he didn’t give a rat’s ass what the place looked like. Just so long as it didn’t have a pair of screaming toddlers or hyper-judgemental Cuban mother to wreck his calm. The same could not be said for Keith’s house at the moment. 

Maria McClain had successfully turned her visit into an occupation and almost instantly wore out her welcome chiding Pidge for. . . well. For pretty much everything she did. From slouching sideways on the couch to not having a ‘real’ job. Nevermind that her work from home job pays twice what Keith’s go try not to get shot job ever will. Pidge doesn’t put enough effort into her looks. She doesn’t even own make-up. Not that she needs it to impress anyone, she’s morally opposed to that kind of deception anyway. Something Keith actually likes about her. But she never cooks. Not a thing. Ever. Nevermind that Pidge is the one who taught Keith how to cook with more than an iron skillet and open fire. She’s a mess. She never cleans. Except for the end of the month when she alphabetizes the spice drawer and scrubs the walls. She’s not Catholic. Not even Christian. Sometimes Maria forgets that Keith isn’t actually her son. Or Catholic. Or even Christian. Usually he doesn’t have the heart to correct her. He might if she brings it up again though. 

Pidge was just one more passive aggressive reorganization of the kitchen away from sending Nyma a photo of Lance’s twins hogtied in her trunk with the caption “Do you know where your kids are?” They would have a blast at it. Those boys loved pictures and even more playing pretend. Their mother on the other hand would not find it the slightest bit funny. She would raise holy hell about Maria taking the kids across state lines without her permission. Custody wasn’t settled and the way things were going it didn’t look like Lance would get it. Nyma was a grade A bitch but she had a steady job and had never been arrested. Things that could not be said of Lance. 

And that is the only reason Keith hasn’t kicked them all out by now. 

He was stalling. He knew it. Pidge knew it. Even they knew it. No one said anything. Lance was more a mess than anyone wanted to admit. He refused to go back to New York and wouldn’t explain why. Avoiding Nyma of course but Keith had a bad feeling it was more than just that. Call it a cop sense. Lance was being cagey. Like he had something to hide. Keith wasn’t sure he wanted to know what. So he found himself sitting with his de facto brother-in-law nearly a hundred miles from home to avoid the issue.

“I meet your wager and raise-” Matt paused his silly accent to think of something ridiculous. “Why I think I shall raise you twenty guineas. Fowl. The bird. Not the coin.”

The college girl sitting across from him giggled and Keith rolled his eyes but didn’t look away from his book. You would think Matt should be better at the accent as much time as he spent with Coran and Allura but it was almost offensively bad. Keith sometimes wondered if that were intentional. Given the way it made the girl’s cheeks flush and lashes flutter he was pretty sure it is. Matt just smiled as he laid down his cards on the little table between their coffee cups.

“Oh. All of your cards are in order,” the girl practically chirped then pouted at her own cards before laying them down. “I just have some that match.” Two queens and a trio of tens to be precise.

Keith saw Matt consider taking advantage of the poor thing but in the end he huffed a slightly tight laugh. “Guess I’m gonna have to get some birds offa ya, man,” he elbowed Keith lightly then shook his head and turned a brilliant smile on the girl for her confused look. “Full house beats a straight, Hun.”

The girl just blinked with a somewhat vacant stare and Matt let it hang a moment to appreciate the hollowness behind her eyes before huffing another little laugh then standing up, “I owe ya a coffee, Sug.” He held out a hand with a charming smile and the girl lit up, taking his offer with a trilling giggle and bounce out of her seat.

Keith just watched the whole thing with an unimpressed stare. He’d seen Matt work enough it wasn’t surprising anymore. He still didn’t understand it. Probably never would. But he was no longer surprised when Matt charmed girls from 18 to 80 into giggling puddles of wide eyed. . . whatever that was. Keith had tried to codify it once but as Pidge told him, there is no logic to Matt’s charisma. He uses the same tactics Lance tries but for some reason it just works for Matt. Keith was glad not to be in that game anymore. Not that he’d ever really played it to begin with. Not that Pidge did either. Something else he liked about her.

“Finally,” a middle aged woman flopped into the chair beside Keith with a huff now that Matt had vacated it. “I thought they would never leave.” She leaned toward him to confide with a wry grin. “Couples like that are disgusting. Aren’t they.” She didn’t really ask.

“Mmm,” Keith offered a noncommittal grunt only because Shiro had made him promise to at least try not to be rude to strangers. The woman watched him as if she expected something more. Keith couldn’t think what so pretended not to notice. Too busy reading to catch the way she was eyeing him like a piece of meat.

“Beautiful weather we’re having,” she idly threw out, still leaned against the arm of her chair, almost in Keith’s space. He flicked his eyes up from the page to briefly catch hers for that.

“It’s 40 degrees out,” Keith deadpanned. The woman just smiled how he imagined a snake might.

“But it’s sunny. And a last chance to wear my winter boots.” She lifted a leg to perch one of said boots on the table in front of them. It made her skirt hike up to expose a smooth, tan thigh. Not even a trace of veins or cellulose. 

“Mmm,” Keith just grunted and went back to reading. 

The woman stared, holding the obviously uncomfortable pose a moment before pulling her leg back with a tiny huff. Keith ignored her as she smoothed out her skirt, sitting up straight in her chair now, shoulders back, chest out. She drug a hand up through sun bronzed hair and flipped it with a little sighed breath. Keith kept reading.

“Ugh,” the woman huffed rolling her eyes at a pair of heavily tattooed, spiked collar, ripped jean wearing young people as they walked up to the bar. “Kids these days.” She tossed a heavy look at Keith. “They just don’t know the meaning of the word ‘class’ anymore.”

“Mmm. Yes. So very disgraceful,” Keith didn’t stop himself from half muttering but didn’t stop reading either. She paused a moment to look him over again then apparently decided to ignore the sarcasm.

“They don’t even appreciate the coffee. Just slurp their sugary milkshakes and pretend it’s coffee,” the woman curled a lip at the sound of the blender roaring behind the bar.

Keith glanced up for that and noted the two ‘kids’ weren’t the ones that ordered the blender drink (that was Matt’s girl) then tilted his head slightly to give the woman a sideways glance. She was the kind of pretty that ruled in high school but struggled to keep up once guys started to figure out bleached blonde fake tan doesn’t age well. Plastic surgery could only do so much and the collagen smile didn’t reach her eyes which were downright predatory.

“So. Do you come here often?” She leaned against the chair’s arm again, toward him.

“Not really,” Keith answered with more than a grunt this time and she seemed so pleased with it that he added, “Just waiting for my ride to get back.”

“Oh? Where are they?” The woman’s smile shifted to something almost genuine as he talked to her.

“Marketing firm downtown,” he gave her a little more. “Presenting a proposal for something I’m not sure I can even pronounce.” Keith huffed a little laugh with a fond smile at the thought of Pidge standing in front of a powerpoint, trying to explain their system’s security flaws to a board of rich old men. He was glad Ryner had agreed to go with her - to translate.

“So you’re an ad man then,” the woman assumed.

“Me?” Keith blinked then shook his head. “No. I’m in law enforcement.”

“A cop,” she nearly gasped, making another assumption. He didn’t bother correcting her. “Mmm. You have a uniform and everything?” She practically purred it, looking him over again.

“Uh. Yeah.” Keith wasn’t sure how else to answer that but was starting to get a little uncomfortable with her gaze.

The woman was about to say something else when the door opened with a bit of a bang and a tall, leggy blonde walked in with a confident strut then stopped near the center of the room to look over the scattered clumps of people loitering there. The woman frowned then looked back to Keith with almost a pout.

“Your ride?”

Keith arched a brow for the expression then shook his head.

The woman smiled and relaxed back in her seat. “I didn’t think you would be with a girl like that anyway,” she rolled a little shrug. “I bet you like someone with more. . . experience,” she did a breathy sort of purr with the last word and leaned in, letting the long tract of her cleavage speak volumes through her low cut blouse.

Oh.

Keith blinked. Then leaned away as his mind screamed, _Holy fuck she is hitting on me. Hard_.

The woman arched a brow then her lips pursed in something of a devilish little smirk. Keith forced himself not to shrink further into his chair and just stared at her like the Cougar she surely was.

“Nice blush, man,” Matt huffed a laugh as he returned from the bar. “You picturing me naked again? Cuz I already told you. I don’t swing that way. Sorry,” he tossed in a little wink and if Keith hadn’t been blushing before (which he had) he certainly was now.

The woman furrowed her brow with something between confusion and offense as she glanced between Keith and Matt and the college girl on Matt’s elbow, slurping at a sugary milkshake pretending to be coffee. 

“He likes dudes.” Matt clarified and Keith fought the urge to curl up and die. Or punch him. That resulted in a clenched jaw, tight shouldered little gasp of a laugh and no time for denial.

“I. . . see.” The woman drawled with a sinking frown then hesitated just a moment to give Keith another undressing with her eyes before pushing herself out of the chair and slinking away.

Keith let out a breath he’d not meant to be holding once she was gone then turned a hot glare on Matt. “What the fuck? You don’t just say that.”

“What?” Matt shrugged as he plopped into the seat again. This time the girl perched on his knee. Keith arched a brow for that but didn’t bother comment as Matt continued. “It’s true, right. You were with Lance for years and don’t think I forgot about that thing you had for Shiro-”

“No-” Keith cut him off then stopped to take a deep breath. He forced himself to ignore the girl and just focused on glaring a hole into Matt’s skull. “This is Texas, Matt. I work with rednecks.”

Matt frowned a little then tilted his head. “That’s not why you’re with Katie is it? She’s not just a beard, right?” He attempted a threatening look but had never been good at it.

Keith did not dignify that with pretending to be scared and just rolled his eyes. “There is such a thing as Bi.”

Matt narrowed his eyes a moment then shrugged it off and returned to a lopsided smile. “Should I tell the Cougar you’re into chicks too, then? Cuz, damn. If she’d hit on you any harder she’d’ve broke something.”

Keith choked for that then quickly shook his head. “Tha hell, Matt? I am married to your sister.”

“Technically you’re not,” Matt shrugged. Keith blinked.

“Is this a not so subtle attempt to tell me I need to marry her? Cuz I am so not in the mood.”

“Just sayin’ man. You coulda got ya sumthin’ soft,” Matt lifted both arms for a wide shrug but that unbalanced the girl on his lap so he brought them back quickly to catch her as she trilled a bubbly giggle. 

Keith gave them both a flat look then stared directly at the girl. “He’s a Brony.”

The girl blinked. Matt’s eyes went wide and Keith took advantage of the split second Matt hesitated (waiting to see if the girl really understood what that means) to walk away. He heard the girl giggle as he passed them.

“Like. My Little Ponies? Isn’t that a kid’s show?”

“It’s got a good message,” Matt attempted to defend himself then called after, “I blame Shiro!”

Keith just waved a hand at him as he stepped out the door then pulled up his phone to text Pidge and let her know he was walking to the park.

* * *

Pidge found the whole thing hilarious. 

Keith was incapable of keeping secrets from her (only her) so he spilled every detail over diner. She was proud of her man for ‘still having it’ and always found his obliviousness amusing. At least now that she’d gotten through it. Which had been. . . well. That was another story. He couldn’t help a fond smile at the memory.

_Fuck you._

_When? ___

__A thump from the bedroom brought him out of his thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder, wondering which cat had knocked over what. But it was Pidge that shuffled through the curtain. Her hair was a tangled mess. She didn’t have her glasses. Or shoes. Or pants. Just one of Keith’s larger t-shirts that she liked to sleep in. It only barely covered the necessary parts. She didn’t seem to notice, or at least not care, that she was close to indecent. She wasn’t awake enough to remember that Lance could come out of the guestroom at any moment._ _

__It was early though. That sweet spot about an hour before dawn when everyone else was actually asleep. Before the twins threw their morning fit or Maria commandeered the kitchen. Keith had gotten used to waking up extra early for it just to grab a little quiet time with his morning coffee. Pidge not so much. She was not what one would call a ‘morning person’ so seeing her up before dawn usually meant she’d not been to bed. This time though Keith knew she had slept. She’d been there when he woke up. He’d been careful not to wake her when he slipped out of bed. Given that was half an hour ago he’d probably been successful._ _

__“Cat wake you?” he asked softly as he turned back to pull a second coffee cup from the counter so he could pour her one._ _

__“Mm-mm” she murmured incoherently in that tiny little vulnerable tone she only used before really waking up. Before her language drivers booted, she would say. Morning Pidge was Keith’s favorite. She was softer, not as quick with a comeback, more agreeable, absolutely defenseless, not such a genius. He wouldn’t like any of that usually but it was so far from her usual that he treasured these moments. It meant a lot that she was comfortable enough with him to show it. Keith smiled warmly and started to measure out some grounds before thin arms wrapped around him from behind and Pidge nuzzled her face between his shoulder blades with a plaintive little mewl. He arched a brow for that and paused._ _

__“You ok?” he glanced over his shoulder but she just squeezed him tighter, burying her face in his shirt. He hesitated a moment, trying to decode what that meant. She continued to hold him. Tightly._ _

__“Katie?” he murmured softly putting down the coffee and trying to turn to face her. She held on tighter at first but a gentle touch got her to loosen enough to let him turn around so he could hold her too. She latched back on immediately. Hid her face against his chest and gripped his back in slightly trembling hands._ _

__Something was wrong. Keith had no idea what. But he’d had seven years to learn the nuance of Pidge’s hugs and this one was in need of comfort. “It’s ok,” he breathed softly and leaned into her, protectively. “Everything is gonna be ok.” He repeated the words she’d once told him just needed to be said. She’d been crying at the time. That was a night he would never forget. But he learned a lot from it. He’d felt completely useless, not knowing what to do for her. So she told him. Because that’s love. No stupid games. No guessing. No damn tests. Just helping each other. “It’s ok,” he muttered the words into her hair as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “I’ve got you. It’s all going to be ok.”_ _

__She’d started to almost relax but the last got a tight little sound huffed into his shirt and she gripped him tighter as her shoulders threatened to shake. Keith gave her a gentle squeeze for it and waited a moment before pulling back slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of her face. Her cheeks were ruddy and tear rimmed eyes held tightly closed._ _

__“What’s wrong?” he asked softly and she ducked her head for it, hid in his shirt again. “Katie?” he pressed gently, not sure how else to help her._ _

__“Had a bad dream,” she mumbled against him, almost baby talk, and didn’t lift her face to say it._ _

__Keith blinked. “Bad dream?” he couldn’t help but ask. Pidge wasn’t the type to get worked up over something like that._ _

__“You left me,” she barely even whispered but the words stabbed like hot knives. He had to force himself not flinch, especially for what came next. “An’ then you weren’t there. When I woke up.”_ _

__“Oh. Katie,” he pulled her back in for another long hug. “I’m right here. It’s ok. I’m not going anywhere,” he breathed softly as he started a slight sway with her. Just a little movement to help wake her up. She sucked a tight breath as her shoulders trembled under his hands. “Cry if you need to,” he told her gently. “But it’s gonna be ok.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got you.” As long as she needs. He would hold her the rest of his life. If she needed it._ _

__A few choked sobs were smothered in his shirt. Despite being given permission (not that she needed it) she rarely cried in front of anyone. Keith knew she hated showing that weakness. It was something they had in common. No matter how many times Hunk or even Shiro and Allura told them it wasn’t weak. They didn’t like what it did to others. Put them at a loss. Demanded attention. Help. Their problems weren’t any more important than anyone else’s. They didn’t like asking for help. Even less needing it. But sometimes. Sometimes the hurt just got too big. And she needed to know it would be alright._ _

__So Keith held her gently rocking with the murmured mantra that “It’ll be ok. I’m not going anywhere. Just let it out.”_ _

__Pidge didn’t really let herself cry but she did gasp a few ragged sniffles as she struggled to calm down. He felt it by degrees. First her hands stopped shaking. Then her breath evened out. Her shoulders relaxed a little. Then she murmured into his shirt, “Thank you.”_ _

__“It’s what I’m here for,” Keith brushed away her thanks with a gentle smile then leaned back to meet her eyes when she looked up almost doubtfully. “It’s true. And I’m never gonna leave you. So get used to it.”_ _

__She huffed a little almost laugh and sort of smiled. “Even if I sobbed like this every morning?”_ _

__Keith’s brow twitched slightly for that but it was brief and he shook his head, leaning in with a coy little grin. “I’d just have to kick whatever ass is makin’ you cry.”_ _

__That got a better laugh but the smile was still weak. “Don’t you have a thing against hitting girls?”_ _

__“If they make you cry they deserve it,” he replied without really thinking. Then it sank in. “This isn’t about me getting hit on the other day. Is it?” He’d thought she found it funny. She said she did._ _

__“No,” Pidge answered quickly to stop the guilty look that was starting to color his face. “It’s not that. I mean. You didn’t even notice,” she huffed a little laugh but it fell flat at the end and she hesitated a moment then shook her head with a muttered, “I’m just being stupid.”_ _

__“You’re not stupid,” was Keith’s automatic response but he hesitated to ask the rest. She forced a smile for his reassurance and the silence between them grew heavy. He couldn’t stand that. Quiet was their refuge. So he cleared the air. “Is it Maria?”_ _

__The sucked little breath and way she cringed at the name was answer enough. Still she shook her head, “I’m just being stupid. I know I shouldn’t listen to her.”_ _

__“Damn right you shouldn’t,” Keith almost growled. If he’d known Maria was actually getting under Pidge’s skin he would have kicked her out immediately. “She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. And it’s none of her business in the first place. Who does she think she-”_ _

__“Your mother,” Pidge answered before he even finished the question. Keith frowned._ _

__“She isn’t.”_ _

__“I know,” Pidge offered a gentle smile and reached up to trace her thumb along the scar that cut across his cheek. “But she might as well be. The way she took care of you after your injury. She’s the one that made sure you got through all your rehab. You probably wouldn’t be able to walk if not-”_ _

__“That doesn’t give her the right to choose who I spend my life with.” Keith interrupted that rant. He knew Pidge felt guilty for not being there back then. But she’d been in school. And she wasn’t even his girlfriend. Lance should have been the one taking him to physical therapy but he was in school too. Lance’s mother though was suffering from some pretty serious empty nest syndrome and Keith needed a lot of mothering at the time. He was grateful for it. He did care about the woman. Loved her like a mom. But even if she really were his mother he wouldn’t stand for this._ _

__Keith pulled his girl close, carding fingers through her hair as he leaned in to tell her confidently, “I love you, Katie. I love _you_ and no one is going to change that. I don’t care what anyone else says. I’m not giving you up.”_ _

__She forced a smile for his confidence then shrugged, “I don’t know why.”_ _

__“Should I count the ways?” he nearly teased as he reached up to brush the hair out of her eyes. She blinked for it then smiled a bit stronger._ _

__“All ten of them.”_ _

__“More like two hundred and fifty seven.”_ _

__“Oh?” Pidge arched a brow but her smile was slipping into something coy. “Do tell.”_ _

__Keith returned the expression with a fond grin of his own and took a moment to lightly brush the tears away from her eyes. Really he was kind of stalling. And hoping she wouldn’t hold him to that number, though she was exactly the kind to do just that. While it was a conservative estimate, the real number was closer to infinite, he wasn’t sure he could actually articulate that many. At least not in a way that would make any sort of sense. Also, where do you start? The most important? The most common? Chronologically first?_ _

__“In no particular order, of course,” she leaned up on her tiptoes to brush a kiss to his chin. He huffed a little laugh for it and bent down to catch her lips briefly. She smiled into it but still looked at him expectantly when she pulled away._ _

__“Well,” Keith drawled a little then almost smirked. “For one, you say things like that.”_ _

__“A sensible start,” she nodded but wasn’t satisfied._ _

__“And that,” he huffed a little laugh. “You’re smart. So much smarter than I am.”_ _

__“You’re no idiot.” She gave him a serious look, instantly recovered from her own pain to defend him. Even from himself. “I wouldn’t have that.”_ _

__Keith nodded with a soft smile. “I know. And I love you for that too. You know what you want.” He paused to turn his smile a bit coy then added, “And aren’t afraid to say it.”_ _

__“Well.” She faltered almost guiltily. “That’s just what you gotta do to get what you want.”_ _

__He huffed a little laugh, “You think it’s that simple.” Then shook his head to stop the uncertain look that started to ghost her eyes. “I love how you don’t really ‘get’ human emotions. It’s nice not to be the most socially handicapped person in a group.”_ _

__Pidge’s expression narrowed into a grudging little glare for that but she couldn’t really argue so just rolled her eyes with a pouty, “Beep boop.”_ _

__“That.” He smiled fondly for the sounds then brought up his other hand to hold her face. “And you understand me. You don’t force me to pretend I feel anything I don’t. You don’t balk when I suggest logic over compassion. But you don’t complain when my emotions get the better of me. You understand my temper. You’ve got one of your own.”_ _

__She blinked and looked away with a shrug. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”_ _

__“Mm-hm. . .” Keith shook his head with a little laugh then pulled her chin back to face him. “We fit together. Compliment each other. Not as opposites but a pair. We have the important things in common - values, goals, desires. But you’re brains to my brawn. You help me plan, organize things so I don’t jump the gun and fuck it all up. I make sure you actually get some of your ideas done instead of just planning them forever. We both call each other’s bullshit. That’s important. And we work well together.” He paused a moment to appreciate her nodding smile. Then added, “You’re the shield to my sword.”_ _

__Pidge gave him an odd look for the last. He grinned coyly then untangled himself from her and stepped back just enough so she could see his shirt. It was one of the western ones today, long sleeve brown plaid with pearl snaps. This did nothing to clear it up so Pidge arched a brow and he smiled wider, waved a hand at the snaps encouragingly. She arched the other brow and took a moment before figuring it out._ _

__Pulling apart a snap shirt is a special sort of joy. They really should be more popular so more people could experience it. Something about the popping sound. That little tug of resistance before each one snaps. And then the sudden release. It’s oddly satisfying. And can be used for a dramatic effect when done right. Keith knew how to do it right. When Pidge pulled open the shirt she revealed his answer._ _

__Underneath the snaps was a faded graphic tee Keith had gotten so long ago he didn’t even remember where it came from. Pidge huffed a little laugh at the old cartoon robot and 80s-tastic logo type then rolled her eyes as she held onto the sides of the overshirt. “I can’t believe you still have this.”_ _

__“Can’t just throw it away,” he leaned in a bit to meet her eyes, pulling up a hand to tilt her chin toward him. “It’s where you got your name after all.”_ _

__“Where Lance got our names you mean,” she huffed but with a smile. Keith had worn the shirt on the first out of uniform gathering (aka going to the bar off base) they had all gone to as a team and five beers in Lance had convinced everyone they needed code names. Then promptly assigned them all ones from the show. He was a fan. To put it lightly._ _

__“I already had mine,” Keith sort of shrugged then stepped up closer to wrap her in a warm hug again._ _

__“Which is why Shiro got stuck with Sven.” She nodded against his shoulder, leaning into the hug. “He is way more 80s Keith than you.”_ _

__Keith huffed a little laugh but couldn’t really argue. In fact he’d said that when Lance was naming them. So just shrugged again. “The new one made it right.”_ _

__“It’s kinda creepy how right they got it this time.” Pidge pulled away just enough to stare up at him with a little crease to her brow. “I mean. It is creepy. Right?”_ _

__“Yeah. A bit.” Keith shrugged then remembered. “Though. You know Lance dated one of the writers. Right?”_ _

__“Wait. Really?”_ _

__“Yeah. They met at a convention or something. According to him at least. So. . .” he trailed off with a shrug. Lance wasn’t exactly a liar per se but he was known for embellishing quite a lot._ _

__“So he might have had a date with them. Or thier assistant. Or someone with the same name.” Pidge huffed a laugh._ _

__“Something like that.” Keith nodded with a fond smile and started to say something but Pidge cut in._ _

__“Course with Lance it could go the other way too. For all we know he could _be_ one of the writers.”_ _

__Keith blinked. “Huh. That would explain a lot.”_ _

__“Right.” Pidge huffed with a wide eyed expression._ _

__“Why wouldn’t he-” Keith started to pursue that thought but shook it off instead. “The point is. You’re the shield to my sword. We work together.”_ _

__Pidge let him drop the conspiracy and just smiled for the sweet metaphor then it turned coy. “Technically I’m the sheath.”_ _

__Keith blinked. He’d never thought of it that way and. . . well. There was some not so subtle innuendo there._ _

__“The sword comes out of Green’s mouth.” Pidge elaborated to drive home the point. “So. I’m the sheath.”_ _

__“Yes. Technically,” Keith nodded with a slightly rising blush. “But that’s maybe a bit. . .” He trailed off, not sure how to word this. “Risque for a kid’s show?” He turned it into a question though it was not at all questionable._ _

__“So you admit it’s a kid’s show.” Pidge brought up an old argument she’d gone rounds over with Lance._ _

__Keith huffed a laugh then leveled a knowing look on her. “Don’t pretend you don’t love it.”_ _

__She shrugged shamelessly. “I like dino nuggets too but that doesn’t mean I don’t recognize they’re made for kids.”_ _

__Keith blinked then pulled her in for a quick kiss and murmured, “You’re adorable,” as he pulled away._ _

__She just grinned. “You’re adorkable.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has art: [I Drew a Thing](https://umbraja.tumblr.com/post/172975685951)!
> 
> My boy has that shirt. I used it for reference. He also did the exact thing Keith does with the shirt to cheer me up. And that is where this fic came from. He also really did get hit on by a cougar.
> 
> You can thank [pinstripedJackalope](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinstripedJackalope) and their [House Voltron](https://archiveofourown.org/series/920661) series for the idea of Lance giving everyone nick names. I asked (and received) permission to use the idea. Highly recommend checking out their stuff. Another writer that also does art. They've got a wonderful style and their stories have meat.


	9. Wildlife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Lance put both hands on his hips and squared off against the girl, looking every bit his mother for it. He even shook a finger as he chided, “I tolerate your creepy pet spider in the utility room-”_
> 
> _“Her name is Charlotte,” Pidge cut in with a head swivel, finger to his face combo. “And she eats flies.”_
> 
> _Lance blinked and lost track of the conversation as his mouth blurted, “You named the-”_
> 
> _“Do you want flies, Lance?” Pidge cut him off again. “Cuz that’s what happens when Charlotte doesn’t eat them.”_
> 
> Lance walks in on some questionable babysitting activities after leaving the twins in Keith and Pidge’s care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Trigger Warning: There is questionable treatment of children throughout this chapter but especially near the end so if that might offend you please consider if you really want to read this chapter or not. Check the end notes for details if you’re undecided.**
> 
> This one’s a little short because the end of April is my busiest time of the year at work so I didn’t have as much time to work on it as usual. Hopefully the summer is less insane.
> 
> This one’s also a bit different since it’s from Lance’s POV. Sorry. I needed it for the setup. Soft Kidge is subtle as this chapter exposes some of their not so soft characteristics.
> 
> We have names for Lance’s twins! Yay~ I am still taking suggestions on the Shallura and Hunay girls so leave a comment if you’ve got ideas. 
> 
> Special thanks to ALMtheDragon who came up with the idea that Nyma would want fancy long names for the twins while Lance would call them by shorter versions which allowed me to give the boys very long names so I could use more of the suggestions. So we’ve got William (Will) Mateo. Will was suggested by ALMtheDragon and both TheShalluraSunshineChild and Asher_Queen suggested versions of Mateo (the spelling with one t is Spanish so I went with that one). He gets called Mateo mostly by Lance though Nyma calls him William. And the other one is Franklin (Fred) Louie. ALMtheDragon suggested Fred and Asher_Queen suggested Louie. Lance calls him Fred or Freddie though Lance’s mom calls him Lucho which is a Spanish version of Louie.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the suggestions and feedback. I truly appreciate it.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, birds were singing, and flowers all in bloom. Spring had warmed the winter chill away but temperatures hadn’t yet reached scorching. The sky was a clear powder blue where it could be seen through the bright green of new leaves on old oaks, sharply contrasted against the dark pine that surrounded them. A gentle breeze blew through the trees and both doors of the little house were propped open to let the rooms air out in this nice weather. It was peaceful. Quiet. Serene. Not even the toddlers were screaming. A fact that slightly worried Lance as he returned from shopping with his mother. It was the last day before she went back to New York and she’d wanted some time just with her baby boy. Lance hadn’t liked the idea of leaving the twins alone with Keith and Pidge but everyone else was busy and Maria insisted they could handle it. Lance was pretty sure that Keith would at least call if something went wrong. And he’d not gotten any calls. 

Maria had laughed off her son’s worry and drug him to every kitsch store in the greater Houston area (of which there are many) then immediately disappeared into the camper Coran had parked on Keith’s property to keep Pidge from murdering the woman in her sleep. Lance was beginning to understand why Pidge mostly avoided the woman. She was his mother so he loved her deeply but. . . damn she did not listen. Keith only agreed to watching the twins a few hours, not all day. Lance was sure Pidge had spent every extra minute thinking up ways she could make him regret this. Her weekends were sacred. Especially when Keith was also off duty. So this quiet felt like a calm before the storm as Lance approached their house, arms laden with groceries picked up as peace offerings on the way back from the city.

Keith’s big hunting dog woke up from her nap to give Lance a hopeful look and thump of her tail as he stepped up to the porch. He gave the old girl a sorry smile, shrugging the heavy bags in both hands, then rubbed her shoulder with his foot to pay his passage inside. She whined and rolled over to let him rub her belly so Lance obliged a moment till the sound of voices from the living room caught his attention.

“Would you say it’s more grey or brown?” Pidge casually asked and Keith hummed his thinking sound to acknowledge the question while he considered a proper response.

“Kind of a brownish grey?” he didn’t sound sure of it but Pidge didn’t press the issue. They didn’t sound upset either. That was good. 

“Any spots? Stripes? Patterns?” Pidge asked calmly typing away at her keyboard. Lance could hear the clicking keys as he walked inside only to hesitate at the curtain, listening.

“Uuh. . . not really. It’s pretty solid,” Keith answered after a pause then added, “Underside looks yellow.”

“Yellow-yellow or just pale?” Pidge continued the strange line of questioning and Keith answered with confidence this time.

“Definitely yellow.”

Lance arched a brow. What were they talking about? Curiosity got the better of him and Lance stepped through the curtain to see Keith sitting on the floor between the couch and table with both toddlers and two out of three cats transfixed by a large, clear tupperware turned upside down on the tile with a small stack of heavy books on top of it. Lance wasn’t sure what was more strange, Keith on the floor with tupperware or seeing the toddlers and cats peacefully within reach of each other. Even Toothless was watching from his perch on the back of the couch. Pidge was in her usual spot on the couch but her screen was a google search, not the incomprehensible code she normally worked on. To make matters worse, none of them even looked up when Lance stepped inside. Rude. Lance gave them a moment to notice him then tried not to pout when they didn’t and just carried the groceries to the table without a word. Why acknowledge them if they won’t do it for him?

“Hmm. . .” Pidge clicked through a few search results as Lance pretended not to listen. Then she asked, “Does it look angry?”

That was an odd question. Lance tilted his head curiously at the girl for it and Keith even asked, “Angry?” 

“Yeah. You know - Angry,” Pidge shrugged then added a bit more helpfully, “Like broad triangle shaped head, glaring eyebrows, about to bite your face?” 

What were they talking about? Lance gave Keith a confused look but it went unnoticed as Keith leaned over the tupperware to get a better look at whatever was inside with a muttered, “Uuuh. . . not really?”

Lance was on his way around the table to get a better look himself when Pidge casually threw in, “It’s at least not venomous.”

Lance stopped dead and stared at the unidentified mass under the plastic. “Wait.” He decided now is not the time to be petty and just asked, “What’s going on?”

Pidge didn’t look up and just continued typing. Keith made eye contact but hesitated to answer and kind of half rolled a shoulder as he dropped his eyes back to the tupperware that the twins were practically leaning on. Lance got a bad feeling about that as Keith rather pointedly put a hand on top to brace it. Lance was about to ask again when Pidge tossed out an answer like it were no big deal.

“Cats drug in a snake.” Then added after few clicks on her keyboard. “I think it’s a Yellow-bellied racer.”

Lance only really heard ‘snake’ though.

“Oh My God!” He squeaked and nearly knocked over a chair in his rush to snatch the toddlers up from the floor. The cats all scattered and Mateo nearly flipped the tupperware over when Lance grabbed him. If not for Keith’s firm hand on the tub he would have. 

“Chill, Lance. It’s not venomous.” Pidge chided from the couch as Lance recoiled from the scene with a toddler on each hip. Keith gave him an apologetic little shrug and stayed on the floor.

Lance gaped at them both, “You just now figured that out!”

“I was pretty sure it wasn’t already.” Pidge huffed with a roll of her eyes. “There’s only like 4 venomous snakes in all of Texas and over 100 non-venomous ones. Sides. The cats drug it in. No way they’d manage that without getting bit and then we’d have a totally different problem on our hands.” She paused just long enough for Lance to squeak a frightened little sound before she added, “Not that Harley hasn’t gone rounds with a few copperheads. But that is definitely not a copperhead.”

“I don’t care what kind it is - it’s a snake!” Lance’s voice raised in both volume and pitch.

“It’s a good snake, Lance.” Keith tried to reason but just got a look of betrayal for it so he added an explanation, “They eat mice and bugs.”

“It’s. A. Snake.” Lance hissed at their logic.

“You are so prejudiced about wildlife.” Pidge shook her head with a huff. “If it’s not cute and fuzzy you don’t think it has a right to live.”

“Snaaaaake.” Lance drew the word out with a dramatic swivel of his head as he struggled to keep hold of the now wiggling toddlers. 

“It eats miiiiice.” Pidge drew a word out swiveling her head right back and Lance nearly dropped Fred.

“Look.” Lance huffed as he walked around the couch to deposit both boys on the cushion opposite Pidge then put both hands on his hips and squared off against the girl, looking every bit his mother for it. He even shook a finger as he chided, “I tolerate your creepy pet spider in the utility room-”

“Her name is Charlotte,” Pidge cut in with a head swivel, finger to his face combo. “And she eats flies.”

Lance blinked and lost track of the conversation as his mouth blurted, “You named the-”

“Do you want flies, Lance?” Pidge cut him off again. “Cuz that’s what happens when Charlotte doesn’t eat them.”

“No. I-” Lance shook himself out and got back on track. “It’s a snake, Pidge. It’s an unidentified-”

“It’s a yellow-bellied racer” Pige cut in again and Lance held back a scream, barely managing coherent words for that.

“You didn’t know that when you trapped it under a plastic tub and let my babies practically touch it!”

“Ok.” Pidge narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. “One-” She held up a finger. “Keith trapped it under the plastic tub. And two-” She held up another finger, “It’s under a fucking plastic tub, Lance. They can’t touch it, it can’t touch them. What were we supposed to do? Run around screaming? Try to catch it with our bare hands? Shoot it? Keith knows what he’s doing. It’s his fucking job to deal with stuff like this. And I kept your brats out of the way till he did.”

Lance grit his jaw and bit his tongue as she spoke. They’d already been over the brats thing and he knew it wasn’t a fight worth having. It was a tactic if anything. She was trying to piss him off so he’d say something stupid. At least that’s what Keith told him last time they’d had a shouting match over it. He just needed to calm down.

“C’mon, Lance. It’s not that big a deal,” Keith spoke up from the floor in an overly friendly tone he only used right before a challenge. “You’re a man, aren’t ya?” There it was.

“Real mature,” Lance half sneered though he did stand a little straighter for it. This was stupid. Keith was just trying to distract him. That was obvious from the little shrug he gave Pidge when Lance didn’t rise to the bait. Of course they were working together. Honestly Lance had to admit it was a good tactic. Under almost any other circumstance it would have worked. But. “This isn’t about me. It’s about them,” he waved a hand at the twins fidgeting on the couch. 

Keith furrowed his brow and managed to look both surprised and guilty for the remark. Pidge on the other hand just huffed a wry laugh. “Please. They’re not scared. If it weren’t for that tub they’d be chewing on it.”

“Yeah. Well. Babies don’t know any better,” Lance huffed back and pulled Pidge’s laptop cord out of Freddie’s mouth, hopefully before she noticed.

“Uh-huh.” She noticed then rolled her eyes. “Look. The point is, they’re perfectly safe. No one got hurt and you’re just being a pussy cuz you’re afraid of wildlife.”

Lance gasped with a dramatic hand to his chest then shook his head, “I am not a pussy!” He all but stomped his foot with a pouty glare. “And I’m not afraid of wildlife. Remember who got the rat out of the dorm kitchen back in college? Yeah. That’s right. Lance McClain. That’s who.”

Pidge rolled her eyes, “Only because Keith wasn’t there and Hunk forfeited the kitchen to it. If I remember correctly you just wanted garlic knots so bad you were, and I quote ‘willing to die for them’ so I’m not sure a kamikaze run really counts.”

Lane folded his arms across his chest with a little glare. “Garlic knots are worth the risk.”

“From a rat?” Keith failed to hide the judgey disdain in his voice. 

“Nah, man.” Lance waved both hands at him. “You were still in Iraq jumping out of perfectly good airplanes. You didn’t see this thing.” He moved his hands a good two feet apart then added a few inches as he said, “Thiiis big with a look of murder in his beady little eyes.” Keith did not look impressed so Lance added, “Hunk screamed like a little girl when he saw it.”

“I’m sure he did,” Keith nodded with a shrug. “Still nothing. I wrestled a fifteen foot alligator last week. And while you were playing with rodents I was shaking scorpions out of my boots every morning. Hell, Regris had a Deathstalker fall out of his bedroll once. And Antok nearly took a cobra to the face.”

Lance cringed for the thought and knowing that Keith had him soundly beat in this. Like most everything else. Damn him. Keith’s Special Forces stories always win. It was hard to compete with that kind of badassery but they also ended on a sour note because it inevitably reminded Keith of what happened to his friends out there. Lance just tried to keep the bitter defeat from showing as Keith went quiet after speaking those names. Survivor’s guilt is a terrible thing.

The pause gave Pidge time to notice Mateo had flopped himself onto the coffee table and was reaching grubby hands toward the disemboweled battle bot she’d been tweaking before Keith had discovered the whole snake thing. She narrowed her eyes at the kid with a warning look and sharp, “No!” which had about as much effect as a gentle breeze. “Don’t even think about it,” she practically growled, snatching up a little black controller with two big red buttons which got an arched brow from Lance.

The kid at least stopped for that. Mateo turned big blue eyes on her, wide and innocent. They just stared at each other a moment then the boy’s hand started to drift forward, reaching for the scattered pile of electronics again, eyes fixed on Pidge the whole time.

“I swear he does this just to piss me off,” she shook her head with a gruble and held up the controller, thumb on the top button, threateningly. It gave the boy pause.

Lance rolled his eyes and started to reach for the kid, “They’re two, Pidgeon. He’s too young to be spiteful.” 

“Ye of little fai-,” Pidge started then cut off into a barked “NO!” clicking the controller’s button as the boy lunged away from Lance, toward the robot. The child responded with a piercing scream, the sort one would find hard to believe came from a body so small. The other boy cringed sympathetically and huddled in the blankets on the couch, wide eyed watching his brother as Mateo jerked back into a trembling sprawl on the coffee table just short of the parts.

“What tha?” Lance gaped as he snatched up the kid and quickly looked him over for injury. Had he grabbed something sharp? Or electrified? He didn’t even reach the pile. Had the snake gotten out and bit him? Lance glanced to the tupperware but could still see the coiled reptile. Was there more than one? He nearly started to panic as he didn’t find any injuries on the boy’s limbs so lifted his shirt to discover a strange sort of velcro belt wrapped around his belly. It looked suspiciously handmade. “What is this?” Lance narrowed his eyes at Pidge.

The gremlin was not phased by the obvious accusation in his tone and just shrugged it off with the simple explanation, “It’s a shock belt. Sort of like a shock collar but for babies.” She paused momentarily then added before Lance’s brain managed to accept that information. “I invented it.” Somehow it was said with pride and not even a shred of guilt or shame.

Lance blinked. Once. Twice. Then shook his head as if that might wake him up from this really bizzare dream. It didn’t. He frowned at the little plastic box of electronics wrapped around his son’s torso then looked back at Pidge in confusion. “You put. . . a shock collar. On. My. _Son_.” It didn’t sound like a question though he really wanted it to be.

“Belt,” Pidge corrected matter of factly.

“Pardon?” Lance’s brows shot up almost to his hairline.

“It’s a shock belt. Not a collar.” She corrected then had the audacity to add, “He’s not a dog, Lance.”

That got a sucked breath and trembling shoulders as Lance held in a total meltdown. Pidge at least had the grace to notice his disapproval. She still didn’t apologize. “It’s perfectly safe. I didn’t just put a dog’s shock collar on a belt. That _would_ be child abuse. Those are way too high amperage. I used the electrodes off Keith’s TENS machine, you know that thing his doctor gave us for his back spasms.”

“Safe?” Lance gasped at her defense. “He screamed like he’d been bitten then flopped over _trembling_!” 

“He’s _your_ son Lance.” Pidge rolled her eyes at his outrage. “Boy’s a little drama queen. Screamed even louder when I put him in the high chair for lunch.”

Lance did have to admit that was probably true. Both the twins were prone to fits. But it’s not called the terrible twos for nothing. They’re just that age. Still, he couldn’t concede the point so instead accused, “Did you pinch him with the buckle?”

“No.” Pidge glared back. “He just doesn’t like being in it and you’ve done a real good job teaching ‘em both that they can get away with murder if they just throw a big enough fit about it. They need some discipline or they’re gonna grow up to be _real_ brats.”

Lance’s nostrils flared for the provocation but he managed to shake it off with a huff. “They’re babies, Pidge.”

“They’re over two, Lance.” She refused to let it go. “They both understand what no means. You’re just teaching them to disrespect that.”

“Shock. Collar.” Lance nearly hissed.

“Belt. And it barely even hurts. More a surprise than anything.” At least she didn’t use the word ‘shock’ though Lance could see the pun in her eyes. This was insane. Right? She was crazy. He looked to Keith for support. Surely he would know this is crazy.

Keith had the decency to look apologetic as he shrugged for the desperate expression Lance gave him. But then he said, “It’s low voltage. Less painful than a shock collar. Lot less than what my dad used to do to me.” 

Lance deflated into a flat look. “I forgot. Neither of you had a childhood.”

Keith looked away a bit shamefully for that but Pidge draped herself over the back of the couch to wrap him in a precarious hug then glared up at Lance as if it were a challenge. “I had a perfectly fine childhood thank you.” She huffed. “My parents just encouraged creativity and inventiveness. Power tools and chemistry sets are perfectly appropriate toys for little girls.”

Lance decided not to bring up the fact that she was making explosives with her brother when she was seven. Instead he just shook his head with a sigh as he turned Mateo over to find the end of the velcro strap and ripped it off. At least there wasn’t a burn or any kind of mark underneath. The metal wasn’t even on his skin, just a sort of wet cotton pad. He had to admit it probably didn’t hurt nearly as much as the spankings his parents gave him as kid. He wasn’t about to say that though so just looked up with a flat stare and told them both, “Never have kids.”

Pidge rolled her eyes and untangled from Keith then dropped back into her usual position on the couch with a huffed, “Don’t plan on it.” 

“Good.” Lance forced himself to ignore Keith as he slid a tupperware lid under the snake and snapped it shut so he could take the whole thing outside without a word. Lance just held the stupid belt out to Pidge with a flat look. “Now get that thing off Fred before my mom sees it. She is going to flip if she finds out you put shock collars on her grandbabies.”

“Shock _belts_ and, well. Actually.” Pidge pushed up her glasses with a darkly coy little smile. “She saw me making them. She said she wished she had something like that when you were their age. Probably would’ve turned out a lot better.”

Lance recoiled with another dramatic gasp, “She did not!” But Pidge just smiled so Lance looked to Keith on his way out the door. Keith paused to glance between them then offered a sorry smile and little shrug. 

“Hate to break it to ya. But, yeah. She did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **For anyone who skipped here cuz of trigger concerns** : Pidge made a shock belt for Lance’s toddlers to give them a very light electric jolt when they act up and she uses it. Lance freaks out about the whole idea (and some earlier endangerment) so it’s ambiguous whether or not the fic actually condones such a thing. It’s there mostly as a joke (for shock value ;) and to show how different Pidge and Keith’s more conservative views on child rearing are from Lance’s progressive sensibilities.
> 
> I am trying not to be offensive with this fic but I don’t have a good grasp on what is/isn’t offensive these days so if I ever put in anything that bothers you please tell me about it in the comments or send me an ask (can be anonymous) on tumblr. I actually enjoy hearing other people’s takes on things and having intelligent conversations that objectively consider all sides of an argument. Weird, I know. But, seriously, tell me if you disagree with something. I’ve got an open mind and you just might convince me that I was wrong.


	10. Tu Madre

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Keith didn’t bother holding back the glare this time, “I love her, Maria.”_
> 
> _“Ay. I know.” Maria threw up her hands. “I don’t understand it. But I know.”_
> 
> _Keith bit his tongue not to growl for that and just grumbled, “Stop trying to piss her off then.”_
> 
> _Maria gave him an innocent look then shrugged, “I’ve been good. Lately.”_
> 
> _“You rearranged the living room just last night.”_
> 
> Keith says goodbye to Maria while Pidge has an awkward lunch with the girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost didn’t make it this update. Had some deadlines converge with a stomach flu (or something) that had me down hard for a solid week so I’m not 100% happy with this chapter but it’s all I have time to do. Hope I didn’t disappoint.
> 
> ### I’m taking off June.
> 
> My boi and I will be traveling and I can’t promise I’ll make the deadlines so I’m just going to skip the month and try to get ahead. I’ll still be writing, I just won’t post till July, when I’ll resume the regular schedule. This way I should have some buffer in case another sickness or crazy work stuff tackles me. The fics should be better for it since I’ll have more time to plan and polish them.
> 
> This chapter is unbeta’d so let me know if y’all notice anything funky. I try to proof my own stuff but don’t have anyone other than my boi to read things. He’s great for perspective and characterization but just shy of spelling cat with a K when it comes to proofing.
> 
> Let me know if you’d be interested in beta-ing (how is that spelled?) this stuff and I’ll get you access to the raws as I write them.

Airports are infuriating places. Even more so with a pair of toddlers and luggage enough to outfit a small platoon in tow. Keith was fairly certain they could have shipped the luggage for much cheaper than whatever Maria paid to put it on the plane. He had a feeling there would be less chance of it getting lost too. But she didn’t want to take the bother. She was not the one who had to carry it. That was Keith’s job. Then it would be Marco’s when her eldest son came to pick her up in New York. At least it meant Keith didn’t have to be responsible for the twins. At first anyway. The luggage drop off freed his hands with hours left on the wait till her flight so there was still time for that. Thankfully, Lance was doing a decent job of keeping them on a short leash. Literally. He got disapproving looks from strangers for the thick strapped harnesses that tied both boys to a few feet of nylon leash securely attached to his belt but at least he wasn’t going to lose them in the crowd. 

Keith didn’t need children or luggage to have a bad day at the airport though. He had shrapnel under his skin for that. Pressing crowds, suffocating noise, fluorescent lights, and mind boggling inefficiency all paled in comparison to the aggravation of metal detectors. Not that Keith enjoyed those other things but he was at least used to them. A simple trip to the grocery store could include all four. But it was not every day that he had to face the threat of a strip search for setting off a metal detectors’ alarm. No matter how many times he warns them about it, security is never chill about that red light on their little machine. Years ago Keith was not chill about their reaction to it but a single cavity search was more than enough to teach him two very important lessons. First. Don’t fuck with security. Second. Stay home.

It had been five years since the last time Keith had braved the gauntlet to stand in an airport terminal. Not much had changed. It was a little cleaner. There were a few more shops. Conveniences. But it was still a miserable holding pen for irritable masses. Certainly not worth the tense accusations and awkward explaining required to convince the metal detectors’ attendants that the smattering of metal bits across his left side were nothing to worry about. Just slag and a metal plate in his skull. Keith had no idea how Shiro dealt with it so easily and as often as he traveled. But then Shiro’s metal was a lot more obvious. And Shiro was a lot better with people. Sometimes Keith envied that. But jealousy did no one good so he let it go.

Maria taught him that. To let things go. Shiro had tried when they were both much younger but it was Maria that finally got through his thick skull. That had been a difficult time for Keith. Fresh off the field. Just after losing his whole team to an IED that nearly took his legs as well, left him with the shrapnel and pain. Doctors weren’t sure he’d ever walk again. He needed time to heal. Someone to help him. Shiro tried but Shiro had other obligations. A wife, kid, a job. Keith refused to let Shiro neglect them for his sake. He was fine. He’d be fine. He didn’t need anyone. He never had. Never would. It was stubborn pride of course. Something else Maria taught him to let go of. Mostly. But it was also necessity. Keith had no one to help him. He was alone. He’d been alone most of his life. Just another latch key kid from just another broken home. Shiro was the only one he could count on and he’d been in high school when they met. Keith was used to being alone.

He’d been angry at first when Maria picked him up from the hospital. Keith hadn’t told Lance about any of it. Not the explosion, nor the injury, not even coming back state side. He didn’t want Lance to see him like this. Beaten. Bruised. Broken. Lance couldn’t help so why burden him with it? Keith wasn’t used to having people that cared. He didn’t understand what being a family meant. Maria taught him that too. Shiro had called her. He knew Keith needed help and that she wouldn’t abandon her youngest son’s longest running partner. No matter how she felt about the relationship. She was a mother. And a nurse. She couldn’t turn her back on a boy in such obvious need.

Keith owed Maria so much. Which is the only reason he was sitting in the uncomfortable airport chair at her side, waiting for her plane to come in. She’d sat with him through much worse. The least he could do is keep her company while her son let the twins drag him around the waiting area, going from one overpriced shop to another and touching everything they could reach. It kept them entertained though and maybe they’d wear themselves out before the flight. Probably best for everyone if they slept through it. Lance just had to keep up and hope they didn’t break anything. A quiet crash from the last shop they’d disappeared into dispelled that hope.

“ _Ay, Dios mío_ ,” Maria muttered under her breath for the sound but didn’t put away the rosary beads she was rolling between her fingers. “They say you pay for your mischief when you have children of your own.” She leaned back in her chair to tilt a tired smile at Keith. “What did I do to pay for that one twice?”

Keith blinked for the words but it was brief before he huffed a little laugh with a shrug. “Not teaching them to be better?”

“ _Oye_!” Maria slapped his shoulder for the jab then shook her head with a huff. “I’m their _abuela_. I’m supposed to spoil them.”

Keith bit his tongue to keep from congratulating her on a job well done with that and just shrugged instead. Maria side eyed him a moment, as if waiting for another snarky remark, then relaxed with a sigh and went back to rolling her rosary beads. Keith settled back in his chair to continue idly watching the crowd around them. Silence settled between them but it wasn’t awkward or strained. Maria had more patience with quiet than her son. Still, she didn’t mind breaking it either.

“Has he told you anything?” It was barely a whisper and she didn’t look up from her beads to say it. She knew Keith didn’t need, or even really like, the eye contact.

He shook his head with a simple answer, “No.”

“He is going to lose them.” The words were strained. She didn’t have to be specific. Keith knew she meant the twins. “He doesn’t have a job. Or a house. Not even an instrument.” She paused to look up with a worried frown. “He sold it. Did he tell you that? He sold his cello.” 

“No,” Keith returned her frown with one of his own as he shook his head slightly. “He hasn’t said anything.”

“Of course he would not. _Mi payaso_ does not speak of his troubles. He makes jokes to pretend they are not there.” She waved a hand at the laughter coming from Lance and his boys as they wandered out of the shop, now with a bag in hand.

“It’s how he copes.” Keith couldn’t help but automatically defend though he knew Maria was well aware.

“That does not make it any less true.” She shook her head. “He won’t even come home.”

Keith hesitated briefly before rolling a shrug, “He’s hiding.”

“ _Sí_ ,” Maria nodded. “But from what?”

Silence drug out between them as Keith just shook his head for that. He didn’t know. Didn’t want to know. Whatever it was Keith knew it was dangerous. Lance wouldn’t risk losing his children for something so petty as not wanting to face his ex. He must have done something stupid and gotten in over his head. A debt probably, if he sold his cello. Keith wanted to think Lance was smart enough not to deal with that sort of thing but. Well. This was Lance.

Still, Keith wasn’t about to tell Maria that. So he forced a smile with a little shrug. “Adulthood? Probably just doesn’t want to get a real job. He dropped out of school to be a rockstar. Was already a music major.”

“ _Ay_. Do not remind me,” Maria rubbed her forehead lightly then sighed. “I just cannot understand how it came to this.” She dropped her hand to give Keith an exasperated look. “They say I cannot keep them. My house has too many people. Do you hear that? Too many people?”

Keith blinked. He didn’t know what to say for that. If it was anything like the last time he’d visited he could believe it. The McClains were not poor but they weren’t wealthy either and Maria liked to keep her family close. Her very large family. In her not large house. Keith had felt claustrophobic in the crowd and could easily see how a social worker might fault the place for it. Again, not something he was going to say. So he shrugged once more. “Nyma’s contesting custody. They’re gonna be picky.”

“Picky,” Maria practically spat the word. “They are being unreasonable.”

“It’s bureaucracy,” Keith tried to excuse but Maria looked up at him with a tight frown. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she considered something then looked away with a huff.

“ _Ay_. It is just not fair. Good people like you,” she clapped a hand to his shoulder as she said it, “Can’t have children when they just give them over to a _zorra_ like her.”

Keith frowned deeply then shook his head. “She’s their mother.”

“Ha.” Maria flicked a hand at that. “You’re more their mother than she is. The way you’ve watched them. Played with them. Taken care of them these past weeks.”

“She takes care of them.” Keith didn’t like where this was headed. 

“You have not seen what I have. She doesn’t love them. Not like a mother should.”

Keith hesitated then shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Maria huffed then softened and paused a moment as if to consider something though Keith had a feeling it was for show. He was pretty sure she’d lead the conversation to this on purpose so her next words did not surprise him. “You could take them.”

“No.” Keith made sure to say it firmly but not harsh. She still flinched for it then looked confused so he added. “They would never approve us. It’s across state lines. And we aren’t qualified.”

“Qualified?” Maria huffed then waved the idea off. “You’re old enough. You’re employed. You own a home. You don’t have a criminal record.”

“I work a high risk job. We don’t own the house, the bank does. I’m not even married.” Keith started to counter her but she cut in with an exasperated huff for the last.

“ _Dios_. You need to marry that girl. But everyone has a mortgage. And so what your job is a little risky. I could die crossing the street.”

Keith gave her a flat look then just shook his head. “It’s not that simple, Maria.”

“It can be. If you fight for it. They won’t deny someone like you. You’re a war hero.”

“With a history of mental illness.” Keith hadn’t wanted to bring that up but she pushed him. “And a knife collection.” He added for good measure but Maria just brushed that off too.

“Trauma induced. PTSD. And you can put the knives in storage.”

Keith took a deep breath and let it out slow. She wasn’t listening. She never listened once she got her mind set on something. But he wasn’t going to cave this time. So he shook his head and looked her in the eye with a firm, “No.”

Maria frowned deeply a moment then rebounded. “You won’t know unless you try.”

“No,” Keith repeated but he knew she wouldn’t stop so easily so he added. “Maria. I love you. I do. You’re the closest thing I have to a mother. You know that. But I can’t. I won’t -”

“Why not?” She cut in again, almost offended.

“Because I don’t want to.” Keith admitted with a sigh. “We don’t want children, Maria. I don’t expect you to understand it. But. Please. Respect it.”

“But. . . why?” Maria looked confused and maybe a little hurt. Of course she was. Her children were her whole life. “You would be such a wonderful father.”

Keith grit his jaw to hide a frown. He’d not wanted to have this conversation. She wasn’t going to understand but she wouldn’t shut up either. He hesitated a moment before shaking his head. “You don’t know that. My father seemed like a great guy. At first.” He paused to turn over his arm, expose the old scar of a cigarette butt on the underside. “People change.”

Maria stared at the little dot of damaged skin with sympathetic outrage, “You would never-”

“You don’t know that.” Keith stopped her but she shook her head with determination.

“You are not your father.”

“I know.” Keith nodded firmly. “And I’m not going to be anyone’s father.”

Maria frowned then shook her head, leaning in to put a hand to his shoulder. “You shouldn’t let fear-”

“I’m not afraid.” Keith shrugged off the hand. “I just don’t want it.”

“But-”

“No.” He nearly growled, holding back a glare. He hated to treat her like this but she just wouldn’t stop. So he kept up the hard look as she watched him with a deepening frown until she turned away, throwing up her hands. Keith hoped that would be the end of it but Maria looked back after just a few moments.

“So you will let them stay with that _puta_?” She practically accused.

Keith held in a groan for that and shook his head. “Nyma isn’t that bad. You just hate her. Like with Katie.”

“I don’t hate Katherine.” Maria puffed haughtily but wilted a bit under the flat look Keith gave her for it. “I don’t. I just think you could do better.”

“I don’t want to do better.” Keith didn’t bother holding back the glare this time though he did soften it to add, “I love her, Maria.”

“ _Ay_. I know.” Maria threw up her hands again. “I don’t understand it. But I know.”

Keith bit his tongue not to growl for that and just grumbled, “Stop trying to piss her off then.”

Maria gave him an innocent look then shrugged, “I’ve been good. Lately.”

“You rearranged the living room just last night.”

“It is only teasing, _mi Fosforo_. I can’t help that she reacts so much.” Maria tried to brush it off but Keith kept up a hard look until she gave in with a sigh. “Fine. I will stop teasing. For you.” She flashed a taught grin for the last.

Keith considered a moment before nodding with a gentle, “Thank you.” There was a pause where she watched him almost expectantly. He took a moment before adding, “I still won’t take the twins.”

Maria frowned for that and started to argue, “But-”

“No,” Keith cut her off again, voice almost raised. “Nyma isn’t that bad and even if she were you’ve got other people. Luis and his wife only have one kid. They would qualify a lot easier than I could. You just think you’re helping. But I don’t want it.”

Maria just stared for the near outburst. She gave it a few moments to be sure he was done before shaking her head. “I only want what is best-”

“You want to keep the twins in the family,” Keith nearly snapped back then took a breath to calm down. “You think I should have kids so it seems like a good solution. But I don’t want them.”

“What about them? What’s best for them?”

“If it really was best for them then I would do it. I’m not going to abandon them, Maria. But we’re not the only option. You’ve got other people. Start with them.”

“And if no one else can?”

Keith grit his jaw. He knew it would come to this. He half worried she would force it, sabotage anyone else, but he wasn’t going to lie to her. So he nodded with a sigh. “If no one else can then I’ll take them. Of course.” He paused a moment before adding, “I really doubt we would get approved though if Luis is rejected.”

“You never know,” Maria shook her head with a shrug. “They rejected me.”

“You can appeal that, you know.”

“Oh. I know. And I will. I just wanted to give you-”

“Thanks. But no,” Keith didn’t even let her finish that.

Maria shook her head with a sigh then looked up as an artificially cheery voice called her flight number over the loudspeaker. “This is it, I suppose.” She started to push herself out of the uncomfortable chair but Keith was on his feet to give her a hand before she managed. He hardly even thought about it, just a reflex. She smiled warmly and held his hand a little longer for it.

“Why anyone would ever leave you,” She shook her head patting his shoulder with her free hand. Keith decided not to think about what that meant but she drove it home with a wry whisper as she leaned in to wrap him in a tight hug. “Your mother was a _perra loca_. You are my favorite son.”

Keith tried not to flinch for mention of his birth mother. She’d left him to his father when he was too young to really remember her. Years ago he’d wanted nothing more than to find her. Know her. Now, he didn’t like to think about it. Maria meant well though so he forced a smile with a little nod. “You’re my favorite mother.”

“ _Ay_. Flattery will get you everywhere.” She squeezed him with a laugh then pulled away to look out over the crowd. “Now where is that _idiota_ of mine? You would think tied to two little monsters he would be easy to find.”

* * *

The coffee shop was lightly crowded, a few too many bedraggled college students and hurried interns for Pidge’s taste but it was better than the screaming children found in most family places on a Sunday afternoon, particularly a Mother’s Day. Pidge had never understood this strange practice of cramming into an already crowded public space on the same day as everyone else just to celebrate something that should be appreciated all year. She didn’t get holidays. Or anniversaries. Most traditions really. Pidge liked to party with the best of them and even enjoyed decorations. She found the rituals and history behind holiday customs fascinating. She just didn’t agree with the scheduling. It was inefficient and impersonal to follow someone else’s calendar of emotional displays. 

This was not a popular opinion though, as evidenced by the crowd. And Pidge’s presence in it. The Shiroganes take their traditions seriously and as Allura’s best friend that meant Pidge got subjected to an awful lot of holidays. Once Pidge tried to make up a tradition that would be just as uncomfortable for them to insist they attend but Keith drew the line at allowing her to perform an actual pagan sacrifice ( _You’re not pagan, Katie. It’s disrespectful._ ) and atheism doesn’t have rituals. Which is not fair. Keith suggested maybe they just invite the others to do something she actually likes doing but they wouldn’t usually do themselves. And that’s how the semi-monthly D&D game got started. She’d not expected them to actually like it.

Thankfully at least Shay kept Allura distracted for most of the obligatory luncheon so Pidge didn’t have to actually interact and could put her mind to a more practical use than frivolous small talk. She’d already planned out the next two sessions of the game, taken the week to diagram the artifact they would find and wrote a program to dynamically generate a dungeon as they went through it. She’d spent the better part of the day contemplating the chemical composition of Greek Fire but got distracted with people watching which lead to the current train of thought about holidays and tradition and how much she disliked the obligation. 

Pidge had been lucky to find a man that was just as unorthodox as her (really he was the lucky one, most women care a lot more about special occasions) but it was too much to ask that her friends carry the same disdain for conformity. Even Keith wasn’t quite the rebel Pidge dared to be. But then he’d been beaten (sometimes literally) into something that tries to pass for normalcy while Pidge’s upbringing had actively discouraged the mundane. Sometimes she wonders what she would be like if she’d not been raised to think for herself, question everything, and make her own path. Both her parents are certified geniuses, her father a literal rocket scientist and her mother a semi-radical psychoanalyst. Some of it was probably genetic. But what if she’d been raised like Shay? Forced to wear the hijab and keep her mouth shut, do what the men say. Pidge couldn’t help but physically recoil from the thought.

“Are you not feeling well?” Shay’s gentle accent made the words subtly exotic but the sentiment was familiar. She worried as much as Hunk where her friends were concerned. 

Pidge blinked a moment before putting together that she really had physically recoiled then offered a little huffing laugh and nodded, waving off her friend’s concern. “Fine. I just twitch sometimes. You know that.” She took advantage of the occasional jerks her body inexplicably pulled on her to excuse the behavior. Might as well get something good out of that quirk. 

Shay bought it with a bowing nod and turned back to the tablet screen Allura was holding out to show her pictures of, well, probably the kids. Allura didn’t keep pictures of much else anymore. She also wasn’t so easily convinced. Pidge pushed a wider smile to keep her from nagging and Allura arched a brow for it but shrugged off the concern. Though now that her attention was caught.

“You’ve been quiet,” Allura tried to pass it off as a simple statement, just an observation, but Pidge heard the question.

“Eh. Just kinda confused why you keep inviting me to this thing.” Pidge shrugged. Might as well tell the bigger truth to hide a little lie.

“Because you’re our friend. And you need to get out more,” Allura answered with patient authority. Like she were explaining it to a five year old. Pidge forced herself to believe it was just habit from being a super mom, not intentional condescension. She spared a few seconds to wonder how Allura sounded to her clients before shaking it off.

“Yeah. I know. But I’m not a Mom. I don’t really belong at the Mother’s Day Out gig.” Pidge waved at the Mother’s Day cards on the table between them. It used to be Wives Day Out and before it was just Girl’s Night Out. Pidge hasn’t really felt included since that first change but Allura insisted she come every year.

“You have the cats, yes?” Shay made it sound like a question but it was rhetorical. She didn’t wait before adding, “You are a pet mother. It counts.”

Pidge arched a brow over a slightly flat look for that logic. Having pets was worlds away from having actual, human children. But. She shrugged it off. “I guess there are some similarities.”

“Don’t get caught up in the details,” Allura rolled her eyes with a sigh. “The holiday gives us an irrefutable excuse to make the husbands take care of the kids so we can get a little time off. That’s all.”

“Huh. That. . . makes sense, actually.” Pidge admitted with a little nod of respect then arched a brow at the curious look on Shay’s face. “Wut?” Pidge grunted the question even as she turned around to follow Shay’s eyeline toward the counter across the shop.

“You said that Keith was at the airport. Yes?” Shay asked with a nod toward a familiar red motorcycle jacket.

“What’s he-” Pidge started to ask but stopped as the person wearing the jacket turned around. Boobs. Not large but noticeable curves filled out the t-shirt and faded jeans worn under the jacket. Pidge arched a brow then shook her head with a laugh. “Oh man. I actually thought that was Keith for a second.”

“I can’t imagine there are very many jackets like that,” Allura put in with a frown. It was known how tacky she found most of Keith’s fashion sense and his favorite jacket was no exception.

“Hey. It’s vintage,” Pidge defended her man’s taste in his absence then shook her head looking back at the woman as she stood by the pick up counter, idly glaring at her phone while she waited. “Damn. She even has the same bored face as Keith.”

“That is bored?” Shay asked quietly watching. “It looks like she is angry.”

“Eh, it’s just resting bitch face.” Pidge shrugged it off then paused. “For Keith anyway. She could actually be mad.”

Shay hummed an acceptance then turned back to scrolling through photos on the tablet with Allura. This left Pidge to her thoughts again, even if her friends both tried to involve her in the photo sharing. Pidge couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d seen the woman somewhere before. Logically it was just the strange resemblance to Keith that made her seem familiar without actually being but something in her gut told Pidge there was more to it than that. She couldn’t think what though. No way she would forget seeing someone that looked so much like Keith. It was uncanny. She even did the same impatient little shuffle, shifting weight from one foot to the other as she waited for her drink.

“It’s impolite to stare,” Allura leaned in to catch Pidge’s attention with a wry little smile.

“When did I care about polite?” was the immediate response but Allura’s eyes narrowed warningly and Pidge straightened up. “Fine. It’s just weird. I feel like I know her.”

“She looks like your husband,” Allura made the logical (though technically inaccurate) assumption Pidge had already considered. Then Shay threw in a curve ball.

“Maybe they are related?”

“Keith doesn’t have any blood relatives,” Pidge shook her head looking back to her friends. A photo on the tablet caught her eye. It was one of Shay’s kids now. The oldest. She was growing up to look just like her mother. . . “Holy Fuck.” Pidge whipped back around to stare at the woman who’d gotten her coffee now and was making her way to the door. It was her. A few decades older but definitely the same woman from those old photographs Keith kept tucked away with the rest of his past.

“Language,” Allura chided softly though looked more curiously concerned than offended. 

“This is no time for civility, Allura.” Pidge shook her head quickly and turned back to her friends again, pointing to the woman. “That’s Keith’s mom.”


	11. Old Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Wait. Like, his actual mom?” Lance asked as Keith processed this revelation._
> 
> _Pidge hesitated a moment before she nodded, “Yeah.”_
> 
> _“His birth mother? The one that-” Lance started to push but Pidge threw him a warning glare._
> 
> _“Yes. That mother.”_
> 
> _Lance couldn’t help asking, “Where did you find her?”_
> 
> _“She came into the coffee shop where Allura and Shay were doing their Mother’s Day thing.” Pidge paused then cut him off before he managed. “Yeah. The irony is not lost on me either.”_
> 
> Pidge informs Keith of what she saw. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo. . . I did not get ahead on the writing in June. Terrible, I know. Work has gotten stupid busy, we’re understaffed, and I’ve burned out a little on VLD. Or, more accurately, I’ve gotten distracted with real life, original works, and running a D&D campaign for my friends (as Tumblr followers might have guessed).
> 
> I do plan to at least continue this but I really don’t want to burn out completely so I’m gonna limit myself to only once a month for now. I might pick back up to twice a month if real life settles down a bit or other obligations fall off but as it stands I don’t have time or energy for more.
> 
> That said, I will totally take requests if there's something y'all would like to see in this fic. Kinda been struggling for ideas so wrote myself into a corner last chapter and need something fresh. **So, please. Let me know what y'all want to happen.** Even if it has nothing to do with the current plot line. Beach episode? I can do that. Want to see horses? This is Texas. Just let me know.

The mid afternoon sun beat down from a clear sky with not even a little breeze to cool the air. Cicadas had already started singing and the soft, early green was starting to give way to summer. It was far too bright and too hot for any sane person to be outside so Lance had talked Keith out of mowing the lawn in favor of video games instead. He was starting to regret it.

“Oh come on! Not again,” Lance narrowly avoided the urge to throw his controler across the room as his half of the screen flashed red for the sixth time.

“You gotta watch out for the ground to air.” Keith effortlessly dodged his plane around the falling wreckage that was Lance’s. “They’re all over this ridge.”

“You keep saying that but I still haven’t seen them.” Lance glared at the screen as it counted down his respawn time.

“They keep killing you,” Keith just shrugged as he deftly banked his own plane away from enemy fire. 

Lance gave him a glare for the nonchalance then huffed when his timer finally let him rejoin the game. “What are we even supposed to be doing here?”

“Not die.” Keith gave him a simple answer as he shot down an enemy fighter. 

“Ha ha. Seriously.” Lance took his eyes off the screen to glare at Keith and nearly died for it.

“Seriously.” Keith dove under a missile then straightened back up before taking out the enemy fighter that had gotten a lock on Lance. “I just need you to not die so you can draw fire while I take out this munitions depot.”

“Ugh.” Lance almost put his fighter into a tailspin trying to dodge another missile. “Why can’t I take out the depot and you draw fire?” He managed to crash into the mountain instead.

“Because you keep dying before you even get close.” Keith sparred a flat look for the question.

“I’m sorry.” Lance threw up his hands as the respawn counter started again. “I’ve not played with these controls in like ten years. Why do you even still have this game? It’s ancient.”

“Ace Combat is a classic.” Keith paused the game so he could turn sideways and face Lance on the couch with a stubborn expression. Lance glared back.

“Then get the new one.”

“I don’t make enough money to buy every new game that comes out.”

Lance arched a brow for that. “You make fifty grand a year.”

“I have student loans.” Keith shook his head with a warning look. “And a mortgage.”

“And no children.” Lance challenged but before Keith could argue they both looked away at the sound of the front door closing.

“I see how it is,” Pidge called from the foyer, rustling bags as she stepped around the piles of shoes, coats, and forgotten toys on the way to the living room. “We get rid of the munchkins but they have forever scarred the delicate ecosystem of our home. It will take weeks, nay, months to clean the crayon from the walls and what are you two doing? Video games?”

“I see the gremlin hath returned.” Lance stayed put even as Keith got up to help her with the bags. Lance rolled his eyes at the chivalry and turned around to hang off the back of the couch so he could watch them. “How was Mommy’s Day Out?”

“First. Fuck you.” Pidge glared up from the groceries she sat down for Keith to sort through. “And second. . . eh. It was interesting.” She shrugged, picking up a box of cereal to file away in the cabinets. 

“Interesting?” Lance prompted when she didn’t supply any more, just helped Keith put away the food.

“Yeah. Well. Not at first,” Pidge stalled with a glance to Keith who arched a brow for the attention. She gave him a warm smile in return then stepped close to him, took the bag of rice from his hands and set it on the table then leaned into him, reaching on tiptoes to press a kiss against his cheek. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, leaning down for a real kiss that lasted a bit longer than was polite for an audience. Lance turned around to face the TV again, not bothering to hide the gagging noise he made at their PDA. Pidge flipped him off for it without breaking the kiss. Keith didn’t stop either of them. They’d all gotten used to this and it amused Pidge so he could put up with the bickering. He wasn’t so sure about the wary look on Pidge’s face when she pulled away though.

“Katie?” he asked softly, keeping his hands on her hips, hers still on his shoulders. 

She smiled weakly then looked away with a little shrug and told him casually, “I saw your mother today.”

“You mean Shiro’s mom,” Lance teased from the couch.

“Shut up, Lance,” Pidge snapped a glare and hissed at the offending freeloader then gave Keith a sorry look. That didn’t make much sense to him though. Pidge didn’t usually mind Lance’s corrections. Unless he was wrong. But he couldn’t be. They had taken Maria to the airport while Pidge was out and there’s no way she could have seen her. That only left Shiro’s mother. It had been a long time since she’d taken care of Keith but he probably wouldn’t have made it through high school without her, and especially Shiro’s, help. Lance used to call them brothers for it. Which only got worse when he found out about Keith’s big gay crush on Shiro. Still, it shouldn’t upset Pidge. She’d joined in on the teasing. So what could cause Pidge to make that face? 

Keith furrowed his brow at her, pleading for an answer but she just shook her head ever so slightly and brushed fingers through his hair almost apologetically. Lance turned slowly back around to arch a brow at them for the silence but Keith was too busy trying to read the answer in her eyes. At least Lance had the good grace to keep his mouth shut and let Keith work it out. Slowly. By degrees. It started to settle in. Keith’s brow knotted tighter, beyond confusion and into worried doubt. He sat with the thought a good long while before daring to give it voice. He didn’t want to say it. Not even think it. He didn’t want to open that can of worms. It had been so long since he’d even thought of her.

“M-my mother?” Keith’s voice cracked a little when he finally dared to say it. Pidge gave him a wary smile and tiny nod.

“The one and only,” she tried to make it light hearted but it mostly just sounded like an apology.

Keith stared. There had been a time in his life when he would have been happy to hear those words. He wasn’t so sure now. It had been too long. His whole life really. Keith had never actually known his mother. She fell off the face of the Earth when he was six months old. He hardly knew anything about her. Didn’t have much to go on. Just a few photos and a name that turned out to not even be hers. Keith might have thought his dad had lied about her to keep him from finding his mom if the man hadn’t wasted the rest of his life looking himself. But she was gone. And she stayed gone. Even after his father died. The state tried to track down a next of kin but they couldn’t find her. Keith had looked himself a few times. When he ran away from the group home. When he was living with Shiro. Before he shipped out to war. He gave up after that. Didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. He’d found a better family. He didn’t need to keep chasing ghosts. So he stopped. Just didn’t think about her. Forgot. That was a long time ago.

“Wait. Like, his actual mom?” Lance broke the silence that had started to drag out as Keith processed this revelation. 

Pidge hesitated a moment, watching Keith’s reaction closely before she nodded again with a quiet, “Yeah.”

“His birth mother? The one that-” Lance started to push but Pidge threw him a warning glare.

“Yes. That mother,” she all but hissed then looked carefully back at Keith but he was still processing. 

Lance didn’t have the patience to wait Keith out on this so he just couldn’t help asking, “Where did you find her?”

Pidge considered ignoring him but Keith met her eyes so she at least knew he was listening. She gave him a sorry smile and little shrug then talked to Keith as she answered, “She came into the coffee shop where Allura and Shay were doing their Mother’s Day thing.” 

Lance started to open his mouth and say something to that but Pidge cut him off before he managed. “Yeah. The irony is not lost on me either.”

“Did you talk to her?” Lance leaned against the back of the couch almost excitedly now that Pidge was paying him attention. “Did she say anything? Are you sure it was his mother?”

“Yes I’m sure.” Pidge almost huffed then shook her head and looked back to Keith, “I wouldn’t say anything if I wasn’t sure.”

Of course Lance asked, “How do you know?”

“She has the same jacket.” Pidge answered with a little glare at the couch before looking back at Keith to explain. “The red one. And she looks just like the pictures.”

“Jacket?” Lance did not look convinced but Keith took the chance to finally speak up.

“Did you talk to her?” It was almost an accusation and Pidge had to force herself not to cringe for her answer.

“N-no,” she half shrugged then added a quick defense, “But I got an address. If you want to. . . see her.”

Keith grit his jaw and just stood there a moment. Thinking. Pidge struggled to keep a calm face and Lance started to fidget in all the tension. He was about to break it when Keith shook his head with a firm “No,” then stepped around Pidge and headed for the door.

“Dude,” Lance couldn’t help the disapproval in his tone. “It’s your mom.”

Keith stopped with a little twitch, hand already on the door. There was a brief pause, maybe to think, then he looked back and with a straight face. “My mother is dead.” Then pulled the door open and walked out.

Lance blinked. “Oh. . . kay? Cold much.” He complained at the now closed door. Pidge shook her head with a sigh.

“She left when he was younger than your twins, Lance. He doesn’t know her.”

“Yeah. But she’s his mother.”

“She gave birth to him. That’s not the same thing.”

“That’s kind of the definition-”

“She didn’t raise him. She hurt him. And his dad. A lot.”

“He should still talk to her. Maybe she had a reason.”

“What reason could possibly excuse abandoning a baby?”

Lance flinched for that. His expression melted to a guilty frown a moment before he shook it off into a defiant half glare. “I don’t know. Maybe she got into trouble. Maybe she was trying to protect him. Maybe she didn’t get along with his dad and he kicked her out.”

Pidge gave him a flat stare as he talked then shook her head. “Stop projecting, Lance.” 

The words bit enough to make Lance cringe even though she didn’t stick around to see it. She’d turned away after saying them and was already out the door before Lance had recovered enough to even call after, “How did you get an address without talking to her?”

* * *

_. . . earlier that day . . ._

“This is no time for civility, Allura.” Pidge shook her head quickly and turned back to her friends again, pointing to the woman. “That’s Keith’s mom.”

“Is Maria not at the airport?” Shay asked idly looking up from the tablet photos, only half paying attention.

“No.” Pidge shook her head with a frustrated sound. “His real mom. His birth mother.”

Shay tilted her head slightly and glanced to the woman for that. She still looked confused when she turned back. “Did his birth parents not die when he was young?”

Pidge shook her head again. “His dad did. But his mom disappeared before that.”

“And you think this is her?” Shay asked gently.

“Look at her.” Pidge almost pointed at the woman again. “She looks like an older, female version of Keith. And that jacket. His isn’t just vintage. It belonged to his mother. It’s the only thing he has from her. That and a hunting knife.”

“That explains so much really,” Allura mused with an unimpressed expression as she watched the woman, now with coffee in hand, walk toward the door. “Are you not going to talk to her?” She looked expectantly back at Pidge.

“Talk? Me? Ha,” Pidge huffed a tight sound that might be mistaken for a laugh but she already knew the very good point Shay was about to make.

“Do you not think Keith might want to speak with her?”

Pidge deflated with a heavy sigh and turned to look out the window just in time to see the woman get into a car parked near the door. Somehow she’d not noticed them staring or heard their conversation. That probably had a lot to do with the headphones perched in her ears and intense concentration she’d been giving her phone even as she walked. When she got into the car she took a few moments to settle the phone into a mount on the dash and kept the earbuds in. It was time enough for Pidge to pull out her own phone and take a few quick pictures before the woman looked up. Their eyes very nearly met but Pidge whipped around to avoid it and make absolutely sure the woman knew she’d been staring. 

“Very subtle,” Allura teased as she gave the now suspicious woman a little wave through the glass.

“What are you doing?” Pidge hissed, grabbing Allura’s hand to pull it down. “Don’t draw attention!”

Allura just shook her head, casually turning back around. “Oh, you already did that.”

Pidge facepalmed with a whine that wished for a quick death but Shay brought her back by announcing, “She is gone now.”

There was still a moment of hesitation as Pidge grumbled under her breath before she lifted her face from her hands. “I could never be a spy,” she shook her head then reached below the table to slide her laptop out of her bag and grinned, “Good thing I’ve got other skills.”

“I do hope you’re not about to do anything illegal.” Allura gave the laptop a frown and Shay glanced quickly around them for it. Neither of them tried to stop her though.

“Eh. It’s kind of a grey area.” Pidge shrugged as she plugged her phone into the laptop and brought up the photos she just took. More of the windshield stickers than the woman’s face. “She’s in a rental car. I recognized the logo.” She tapped the photo of the sticker to zoom in and quickly typed the number into a query she’d brought up on a vpn connection. “My company handles their security. All the cars have a tracking device-”

“This sounds illegal.” Allura cut her off before she could finish a confession but Pidge just shook her head.

“I’m doing a random test of the system. Nothing wrong with that.” She paused a moment then typed a few lines of code into a command prompt. “This is the illegal part.”

“Please don’t tell me that.” Allura nearly covered her ears with a frown as Shay leaned in a bit to arch a brow at the computer screen. It was all just scrolling lines of text that didn’t mean anything to her. At least not until Pidge finished with a triumphant little sound and brought up a login screen that seemed to be the car rental company’s customer database. 

“Just gotta put in the number,” Pidge practically sang it as she typed and brought up the rental contract for the car and every scrap of information that came with it.

* * *

A man’s garage is his temple. Keith’s was clean, organized even if it only made sense to him. It was small so there wasn’t much room between the engine lift, air compressor, drill press, table saw, and all the other tools he picked up from Craigslist for pennies on the dollar. Everything in there was used. The table clamp was antique, turn of the century, so was the desk fan though only so far back as the sixties. There was a weight driven clock on the back wall that Pidge had made for him out of old lawn mower blades, drivetrain gears, and motorcycle chains. The industrial freezer in the back corner had come off an estate sale and could hold not one but two whole deer. The stack of antlers on top could attest to that. 

Pidge didn’t usually go into Keith’s garage. He stayed out of her workshop (aka the guest room currently occupied by Lance) and she always felt uncomfortable going into his space uninvited. So she stopped at the opening to just watch him a while. He was working the speed bag that hung in the middle of the garage, bare knuckle punching the thing in a steady but fast rhythm that was sure to hurt when he calmed down enough to feel it. Pidge frowned but gave him a few more moments to notice her before stepping across the threshold and cautiously up to him.

“It’s ok to be upset,” She announced her presence with a little comfort, as much for herself as him.

Keith missed a beat in his rhythm but recovered and kept it up a bit longer before he stepped back and turned to face her. His expression was tight, wary. It had been a long time since Pidge had seen him so tense. She gave him a gentle smile and held up a hand, offered to touch but didn’t force it. Keith’s jaw clenched as his eyes dropped to the hand and he hesitated a moment before leaning into it, let her press a palm against his chest. She smiled a bit more for that.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Ok?” She tilted her head and watched his face closely as his jaw clenched again but he nodded, a tight little jerk but a nod. “We can just forget about this. If that’s what you want?” She said the last like a question and felt him tense up for it so shook her head. “It doesn’t change anything. Even if you want to meet her. That can be it. As much or as little as you want.” 

Keith shook his head with a tight breath and closed his eyes, “I don’t know what I want.” 

“That’s ok too.” Pidge reached up to brush the hair from his eyes. “You don’t have to do anything right away. You can think about it. I’ll be right here when you decide.” Then she traced gentle fingers down to cup his jaw in the palm of her hand. He leaned into it with a little grunt. She smiled softly. “If you want to see her later then I’ll just track her down and go with you.” Keith opened his eyes to stare at her for that. She gave him a little shrug and brought up her other hand to trace fingers through his hair down to hold his jaw as she went on. “Lance can come too if that would help. I’m sure Shiro would be up for a chance to protect you,” She gave him a wry little smile which only got bigger for the flat look he returned it with. Then she shook her head and melted the smile into a more serious expression. “Or you can go alone. It’s up to you. Whatever you want to do.”

“I don’t know. I don’t. . .” Keith trailed off with a frustrated huff and took a moment to struggle with the words. Pidge waited patiently. She knew to give him time. To think. To find words. It was something he’d never been good at. Words. But she also knew if she gave him time to try he would talk to her. Eventually. Shiro had been the only person that had the patience for it until Pidge figured it out. He just needs time. So she waited. Slowly her hands moved down his neck to wrap around his shoulders and she leaned back in to rest her head against his chest while he thought. It helped him not to be stared at. Gently he wrapped his arms around her and set his chin on top of her head, just held her a while. Silence drug out between them but it wasn’t tense or angry. It was just quiet. The summer song of cicadas in the distance created a white noise that helped lull them into its calm. After a while Keith took a deep breath and let it out in a heavy sigh.

“I’d spent so long trying to deal with. . .” He paused to find a word but gave up and just went with, “This. I thought I was over it. I thought I’d worked it out. Made my peace. But. . .” he trailed off again, this time to lean back so he could look Pidge in the eye as he finished. “She’s alive, Katie. She’s been alive this whole time. But where was she? Where the fuck was she?”

Pidge gave him a sorry smile and just shrugged. She didn’t have the answer for that but she did have some logic. “You can ask her.”

Keith nearly cringed and looked away a moment before shaking his head. “I’m not sure I want to know.” He looked back to watch Pidge as he asked, “What if she really did leave because of me? It destroyed my father. Losing her. What if it really was my fault?”

“Keith.” Pidge shook her head with a tired sigh and silently cursed his father. Not this again. They’d been round this but Keith’s guilt complex was legendary. So she steeled her expression and gripped both his shoulders to tell him firmly, not for the first time, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“You don’t know that,” was the automatic response. Pidge bit back a smart ass response and gave him a moment to think as she pulled her hands up to cradle his jaw again. His jaw was tight, brow furrowed with such deep pain and doubt overtaking the momentarily stubborn defiance in his eyes. Pidge offered him a reassuring smile then shook her head.

“I do know your father was an idiot.” She spoke firmly again. Met his eyes. “And if your mother did leave because of you then she’s a total bitch.” She had to pull his chin back to keep him from looking away for that. “It’s still not your fault, Keith. You were a baby. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did she leave?” His voice trembled for the question. Pidge gave him a warm though sorry smile and lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug.

“Ask her.”

Keith grit his jaw with a tight frown and just stared a while before he looked away with a sigh, defeated. Pidge was right. She always was. The only way he would ever know is to ask. He still wasn’t sure he wanted to do that but it was the only way he’d get answers. Still, he took a few more moments out of pure stubbornness before looking back at her with a weak smile and slight nod.

“I’ll think about it,” he conceded gently, leaning into her for a tight hug. Pidge returned it without complaint or gloating and just held him a while. She was right. It didn’t change anything. He still had his family. Bonds so much thicker than blood. He knew that nothing would make Pidge leave. Or Shiro. Even Hunk would stay by him no matter what. So long as a woman wasn’t involved Keith was pretty sure Lance would have his back too. As much as Lance can be trusted to help anyone. Keith even had Maria to passive aggressively question his life choices and Allura to guilt trip him into social activity. He didn’t need his birth mother. But meeting her wouldn’t change any of that. They weren’t going anywhere. 

Keith smiled at the thought then leaned in closer to murmur softly in Pidge’s ear. “I love you.”

She pulled away just enough to give him a wry smile and little nod, “I know.”

“Okay, Han.” Keith shook his head with a huff of a laugh. “I know that I don’t want to know how you got an address without speaking to the woman.” He paused to give her a slightly warning look, pretty sure it was something illegal. Then added, “But thank you.”


	12. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Cheer up, emo boy,” Pidge tossed something that bounced off Keith’s shoulder._
> 
> _“For the last time I am not emo,” Keith growled at her but she just laughed._
> 
> _“I can see you pouting through that blindfold.”_
> 
> _“This is a glare, gremlin.”_
> 
> _“Oh, is that what a glare looks like?” she continued to taunt, completely unphased._
> 
> Flashback to a time before Keith and Pidge got together. Keith’s friends have a surprise they hope will pull him out of the depression he fell into after the injury that got him discharged from the military. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been a little distracted with the Kidgezine project I’m heading up on tumblr so wasn’t able to put as much time into this chapter as I would have liked but I did try to incorporate as many of the requests from last chapter as I could. And then it got away from me so I broke it up into two (might turn out to be three) parts. I hope to be able to post the second part the 15th but make no promises. Any requests that got left out will be worked into other chapters as the plot and such allows. Except for the Kidge roadtrip one because y’all are getting a whole zine for that. 
> 
> Yes, you read that right. There is a Kidge Zine in the works. Check out the tumblr for more information:  
> [https://kidgezine.tumblr.com](https://kidgezine.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I plan to get back to the main story next month but I'm having trouble deciding between two possible plot lines. One gives Krolia a more justifiable reason for leaving Keith but it kind of means she can't really come back to him even now. For the other, Krolia's leaving is less valid but it allows her to be a part of Keith's life now. **Which would y'all rather have?**
> 
> As for this chapter, y’all asked for flashbacks and hurt Keith so here’s the team about a year before Keith and Pidge got together. Keith is still kind of with Lance at this point but the relationship is a bit strained. He’s not in a great place and struggling to cope with an injury that at this point the doctors aren’t sure he’ll ever fully recover from. So he’s a little salty but his friends are pulling together to try and help him out of it.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy and feel free to give me more requests so I can keep trying to work them in.

Spring of 2007, Suburbs North of Chicago

The old van’s suspension was near shot so she bounced and swayed like a ship on rough water just driving a straight line down the highway. The motion made it hard for Keith not to think of how this would be the perfect vehicle to kidnap someone in. At least according to what he’d learned from all those daytime crime dramas he’d been watching lately. There wasn’t much else on basic cable in the middle of the day and he couldn’t afford one of those new on demand packages. Keith couldn't afford much at all, really. His disability was in limbo until the VA made a decision on just how bad off he really was though it's not like he could get a job, he could hardly stand let alone walk and his left arm couldn't even hold a milk jug. There weren't many jobs Keith was qualified for that didn't require some of that and without the official disability ruling he didn't have the paperwork for accommodations. Until that came through there wasn't much for Keith to do but sit around and wait. 

It was torture. Keith had been trained to withstand torture. But it was different when there wasn't a clear enemy causing the pain. He had no one to blame for this. No one to be angry at or fight against. At least not any sort of fight he could win. He couldn't escape this, couldn't even hope for rescue. All he could do was sit around and wait. Two things Keith had never been very good at. His friends tried to get him into college with them but he needed paperwork from the VA for that too. Not as if he'd be able to walk between classes anyway. So Keith was left with waiting. He'd run out of books to read and played all the video games he could stomach but his roommates still wouldn’t let him off the couch. They were still worried from when he ripped his stitches going up the stairs though that had been over a month ago. The stitches had been taken out but they still treated him like he was made of glass. 

At least he was off the couch now though he wasn’t sure this was any better. Bouncing around the back of this old rust bucket seemed an easy way to pull a muscle and his friends still hadn’t told him where they were going. Keith was trying to track their path like the detective in that one show but he’d lost count of their turns for all the swaying and that persistent rattle coming off the old, bent frame made it impossible for him to hear any sort of ambient noise that might help him guess their location. The waft of gas and exhaust fumes leaking into the cab not only kept him from smelling their surroundings but it was making him a little dizzy too. The perfect combination for disorienting a victim. Keith tried not to think what it did to the pastries Hunk used this old thing to deliver but at least that thought was a distraction from the gnawing paranoia of not being able to see.

“Nah-” Lance batted Keith’s hand away from the blindfold around his eyes for the seventeenth time in less than an hour. “It’s a surprise, babe. You gotta keep it on.”

Keith could only wonder if Lance saw his glare through the blindfold. Probably not. And it wouldn’t matter if he did. In the three years they’d been off and on sort of dating? roommates with benefits? fuckbuddies? It was complicated and Keith wasn’t sure what to call the relationship anymore but he was still pretty sure that Lance had developed an immunity to his glares before they even got to the making out stage. Something about having hated each other’s guts at first just took the power right out of most all Keith’s threats. Lance knew he wasn’t going to actually do anything about it. Not that he could if he wanted to. Not now.

“I don’t like surprises,” Keith muttered under his breath but it didn’t matter. Lance knew, or at least he should know by now, that Keith was not fond of a lot of things Lance enjoyed but Lance liked them and Lance was doing this so. . . So Keith took it with a sigh as he picked at the edge of that awful brace he’d been forced to wear for half a year and had another six months to go on before the doctors would even consider taking it off. At least the surgeries were over and it was just his knee they were worried about now. 

“Cheer up, emo boy,” the gremlin from the front seat tossed something at him that bounced off Keith’s shoulder.

“For the last fucking time I am not emo,” Keith growled at her but she just laughed.

“I can see you pouting through that blindfold.” Keith was pretty sure she made an exaggerated pouty face to taunt him. He didn’t need to see it. He knew Pidge. So he kicked the back of her seat with his good leg.

“This is a glare, gremlin.”

“Oh, is that what a glare looks like?” she continued to taunt, completely unphased. But then Keith had never been able to phase her. Even though she was an expert at putting him in his place. “I thought you were still wallowing in self pity even though your friends took time off their very busy schedules to drag you all the way out here for some sunshine and fresh air instead of letting you waste yet another weekend on that ratty old couch.”

There it was. She just couldn’t leave him to his misery. Still, he wasn’t about to admit she was right. So he crossed his arms over his chest and huffed a defiant, “I’ve not been wallowing.”

“When’s the last time you took a shower?” she only half made it sound like a question, more accusation than anything. Keith started to answer but she added, “Before today.”

He just glared through the blindfold a moment. She was right, dammit, but he wasn’t going to give in that easy. “I’m not supposed to get the brace wet.”

“It’s not a cast.” Pidge nearly laughed at him for the poor defense. “You can take it off.” 

“Yeah, and I can barely stand without it.” Keith snapped at her and immediately regretted it. He hated this whole situation. Hated being singled out. Hated being blindfolded. Hated being too weak to stop it. And he really hated having to admit that. But she’d drug it out of him, more on reflex than any conscious thought. She’d gotten him angry, off balance, and made him admit that he was weak.

“You live with two people.” Pidge just wouldn’t drop it. She had to apply logic to fix the problem. Maybe it would work, if that was the real problem. “For fuck’s sake I am one floor up so you practically live with three people.”

Keith arched a brow at that last bit and couldn’t help the slight tug of a smile for the opportunity she’d just given him. It wasn’t often that Pidge left herself open. He had to take it before Lance noticed and made the shot instead.

“You volunteering to help me take a shower?” Keith surprised even himself with how sleazy the line came out but it worked. He could practically feel Lance struggling to hold in a laugh even as he heard Pidge make one of those tiny squeaks of a choked, embarrassed, giggle that were so preciously rare. He just wished he could see her face, the subtle blush under her dusting of light freckles that he knew she was going to deny. The dangerous spark in her honey eyes that she was undoubtedly narrowing at him even now. Keith reached up for the blindfold again but Lance pulled his hand back down. The motion seemed to pull Pidge out of it so she shot back after just a brief lapse.

“Isn’t that what Lance is for?” the girl nearly huffed then added some sleazy coyness of her own, “Or can you two not be trusted in the shower together?”

Keith cringed at the barb and Lance gasped one of his exaggeratedly offended sounds. Keith didn’t have to see it to know that Lance’s mouth was gaping and at least one hand pressed dramatically to his chest. Hunk jerked the steering wheel slightly and the van swerved, rocking enough to tumble Keith back into Lance’s shoulder. If Lance hadn’t caught him Keith might have gone rolling across the floorboards so he decided to just stay there and let Lance hold him. 

“Inappropriate topic,” Hunk hissed at Pidge then called back a gentler, “You guys ok?” to Keith and Lance.

“Fine,” was Keith’s immediate response to that question at all times, even when it wasn’t true. 

Hunk knew this so he waited for Lance to huff a little laughed, “We’re good,” before being satisfied.

“Wut?” Pidge prodded once she had Hunk’s attention again. “We’re all adults.”

“In. Appropriate. Topic.” Hunk almost growled but he was never very good at it so the effect sounded more anxious than angry.

“Geez, he’s practically in Lance’s lap right now.” Pidge huffed and Keith was pretty sure she threw a hand back to wave at his position against Lance’s side. “I know they’re not on the outs again. So, what? They havin’ trouble in the bedroom?” 

Leave it to Pidge to go there. Keith grit his jaw and tried to keep a neutral expression, not give anything away, but it was a futile effort. Keith could have been made of marble and Lance would still be, well Lance. Not that he was a bad liar. In fact Keith had learned that Lance was actually a very capable actor, it’s just that Pidge could manipulate Lance into telling her pretty much anything. Of course she didn’t have to. Hunk was one of the worst liars Keith had ever met. The truth was no doubt dripping down his face like sweat.

“Oh?” Pidge practically purred after just a brief pause. “They _are_ having trouble in the bedroom.”

“You know, sex isn’t the most important part of a relationship,” Lance immediately confirmed it.

“Yeah.” Pidge huffed a little laugh and Keith could imagine the victory on her face as she shrugged. “But it is one of the pillars.”

“Like you’ve ever had sex.” Keith grumbled an attempt to change the subject.

“It’s so cute you think that.” Pidge did purr this time and just the sound of that smug, dark smile in her voice made Keith cringe a little. He needed to hit back before she said something even worse.

“Vibrators don’t count.” That sounded a bit more petulant than Keith had intended but at least it worked.

“Not even if Nyma’s holding it?” Pidge proved him wrong with a taunt, probably grinning at Lance as she did.

“Nyma?” Lance took the bait with a little squeak in his voice. “The singer Nyma? You an-” 

“She’s trolling you, Lance.” Keith tried not to growl but it still came out rough for the annoyance that name had caused him. Not that he had any right to deny Lance a crush but Keith had given up on his when Shiro got married. Lance wasn’t one to let a little thing like that stop him. He also wasn’t one to let having a boyfriend keep him from flirting with every pretty girl that made eye contact. Nyma reciprocated. Lance treated it like a game, just for fun, nothing serious, but Keith hated it. Hated the questions it made him ask about where he stood with Lance. Not that he dared actually ask them. Not that he trusted Lance to tell him the truth if he ever did get up the nerve. It didn’t matter.

“Oh, look. We’re here,” Hunk’s voice cut through Keith’s thoughts as the van rocked to a swaying stop.

“Great,” Keith deadpanned under the sound of the engine sputtering with a few rumbling clanks when Hunk turned it off then the radiator gave off a chorus of metallic pings. It was something for Keith to listen to as he sat in the back, waiting for his friends to get out so they could open the side door and help him. They didn’t go out much with Keith anymore so it took a bit longer than necessary to get him standing, or at least leaning into those awful crutches he’d still not really figured out how to balance with, especially blindfolded. At least he was out of the wheelchair now. Though in that he could pretend to sleep so people would leave him alone.

“Can we go home now?” Keith muttered, already tried and missing the couch.

“Noo.” Lance drew out the word a bit as he gave Keith’s shoulder a light push to get him going. It nearly toppled Keith but he managed to keep his precarious balance and just grit his jaw when Lance added, “We haven’t even gotten to the surprise yet.”

“Can I at least take this off?” Keith tried not to snap or fall as he leaned on one crutch so he could reach for the blindfold.

“No.” Lance slapped away his hand and gave him another push to keep going. “You have to keep it on till we get to the surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises.” Keith said it loud enough to count this time but the words rolled right off Lance, as Keith knew it would.

“You’re going to like this one.” Lance said it with the sort of confidence only liars and fools can really have.

Keith bit back an argument and just resigned himself to grumble, “This had better be worth it.”

“Don’t worry, babe.” Lance draped an arm over Keith’s shoulder, nearly knocking him off balance again as he purred, “My ideas are always worth it.” Keith gave him a flat look through the blindfold but Pidge spoke up before he got to it.

“Please, Lance” she huffed a tight laugh, “Your ideas are always stupid. But this was Shiro’s idea.”

Lance stopped dead, pulling his arm off Keith and nearly toppling him again so he could do that over dramatic gasp thing again. Keith took a moment to catch his balance then shook his head while they were distracted with each other.

“Oh. Well. In that case.” Keith hobbled an awkward turn around and started to limp blindly back toward the van. He nearly bumped into something but a big, strong hand held him back.

“Give it a chance, Keith” Shiro’s voice stopped the fight Keith was about to put up.

“Shiro?” Keith’s voice wavered in a way he really hoped no one noticed but he still couldn’t see and wasn’t sure if he was just hearing things or not. Then the blindfold lifted and after a few moments to recover from the sudden light Keith blinked up at a familiarly warm smile. Shiro. Keith’s balance wobbled despite the gently anchoring hand Shiro had on his shoulder. Ok. So maybe he hadn’t completely given up on his crush. 

“I-I thought you were still in London.” Keith’s voice was a lot more breathy than he wanted it to be but Shiro just smiled for it with a little shrug.

“I got some time off.”

“From the princess?” Keith did not mean for that to sound as bitter as it did but he could really have used Shiro’s help lately.

“We took some time to come see you,” Allura stepped out from behind Shiro, a toddler on her hip. Keith tried not to cringe and just hoped she hadn’t picked up on the bitterness. The slightly chill look on her face made that unlikely but at least she had the grace not to say anything about it. She was nice enough to maybe even understand a little. Shiro was the closest thing Keith had to family. If Shiro hadn’t called Lance’s mother to pick him up from the hospital Keith would have tried to live on his own, without help, counting on pure stubbornness to keep him alive. He probably would have died for it, nearly had a few times even at Maria’s house. Shiro was the only person Keith trusted enough to let take care of him, to show weakness in front of, to ask for help. It had been a hard recovery. Keith was learning to rely on others but it was easier said than done and wouldn’t have been necessary if Shiro had just been there. . . of course then Keith wouldn’t have let the others help him. It was very possible Shiro did that on purpose.

“Okay, guys. Let’s uh, get this thing going” Hunk cut through the awkwardness that had crept in as Keith took too long to respond to Allura. She didn’t seem offended though, maybe just a little worried - like the others. They were all worried about him. Keith hated that. Hated even more that he didn’t know what to do about it. But Hunk could always be trusted to clear the tension. He actually picked Keith up to turn him around so he was facing the building they had parked next to. Keith stumbled a bit to regain his footing after the bear hug turn maneuver then blinked up at the large barn-like structure in front of him.

“Equine Therapy Center?” Keith read the sign that hung over what was definitely a barn door. He considered the words a moment then half glared at Shiro. “Really?”

“You kept complaining about not being able to ride your motorcycle,” Shiro casually brushed off the accusation though Keith had not really talked to Shiro about that. Which meant - Keith turned his glare on Lance but he held up his hands in defense then pointed to Pidge.

“What?” She shrugged, “You won’t shut up about it.”

Keith glared at her a moment then turned it on Shiro again, “So you thought horses would help?”

“C’mon, babe.” Lance cut in to save Shiro, not that he needed it. “Don’t be like this. Have you even tried it?”

“Riding a horse?” Keith gave him a flat look. “I’m from Texas, Lance. Of course I’ve ridden a horse.”

“Not all Texans ride horses.” Pidge threw in a bit of fact to derail Keith’s argument and he gave her a glare for it but amended.

“I grew up on a ranch.”

“Well then, you should know what you’re doing.” Coran smiled brightly as he came up from the barn to wave them all inside, “Come along now, they charge by the hour.”

“Please, Keith. Just give it a try.” Shiro asked and because it was Shiro, Keith gave in.

**Author's Note:**

> #### Thanks to everyone that’s left comments and kudos!
> 
>  ** _Please_ leave a comment on new chapters so I know I haven't disappointed y'all.**
> 
> Comments keep me writing and without them I default to thinking my stuff sucks then lose the will to continue.
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr for updates to all my fics, random arts, and general appreciation:
> 
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> ####  [Who Wants a Kidge Zine?](https://kidgezine.tumblr.com/)


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